#ARE UTTERLY FALSE AND ONLY LEAD TO HELL!

[kiss-me-muchoo]

𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲? || 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐎’𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

part one || part two: Suddenly, we have a baby || part three: Dharma

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲- what was supposed to be a date between you and Miguel, ends up being a night to babysit Mayday. Was it enough to unleash a baby fever? 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬- nah, just fluff. clingy!reader x grumpy!Miguel + cute!Mayday, implied age gap (legal) and implied short reader (I’m 5’2, this man can ruin me), implied sex and baby talks. NO PROOFREAD!!. 𝐀/𝐍_PLEASE, listen lover and false God along this!!!!

♪ ♫ my miguel playlist. ✰ index (masterlist/ other works there)

______________

Irritant and cute giggles.

That’s all Miguel keeps hearing. He’s fixated on the screens of his office. At some point, he checks to see how his new white and red suit is doing.

But every damn time, he gets distracted by some giggles.

Until the giggles turn into strong waves of laughter, he turns, visibly annoyed.

Peter is holding Mayday, and you are seated across them and erupting into laughter once Mayday imitates some growling sounds from you and Peter.

Okay, the sight looked and sounded adorable. Mainly because it was you making the baby laugh and make funny sounds. But Miguel had work to do…

“Hey!. You three, out. You’re annoying me,” Miguel spits out. Peter, Mayday, and you turn to see the man.

“Someone’s being grumpy…” Miguel sees you exchange mocking looks with the little girl. And Peter is only there existing.

Then you stand up, and with a little jump, you’re on his floating station/desk, whatever.

He feels you tickle his rib, so he looks down on you.

You are telling him to lean down a little. So he does.

You stand on your tiptoes and smash his cheek with a kiss.

“See you at home?” You ask.

Peter nor Mayday can’t see it, but Miguel has a hand on the small of your back; his way of saying I love you, be safe. Because he couldn’t be utterly soft around the workplace.

“Say bye to the bitter man, Mayday,” you say, taking the baby from Peter’s arms.

The three of you started leaving with another long wave of laugh and chuckles.

Of course a pain in the ass for Miguel.

…

Later that day, a mission was successfully accomplished. Miguel had gone to a different one with Jessica, Lyla, lego Spider-man, and Spider-cat (his low-key favorite interns).

On the other hand, he was impatiently waiting for you to come back and go home together. He was in the mood to spend some time at your place.

It was your grandparent's house, and it was beyond cozy. Miguel had to admit that living on futuristic Earth was excellent. Still, even when your home could be considered as yesteryear, it was better.

However, he could not see the time to leave because he couldn’t find you anywhere.

He even started to worry something had happened.

Hobie, Gwen, Miles, Peter, and Mayday weren’t Miguel's best options for missions. But… they were your family.

“Why the pout?” Suddenly, Jess appeared at his side. Miguel ignored her and kept walking through the long hallway. Some spider people greeted him and Jess, she made brief conversations, and Miguel only sent them nods.

“I’m not pouting…” he answered finally.

“You are.”

“No.” Jess chuckled, rubbing her giant belly.

Miguel gave her a quick glance. Realizing that her coworker was heavily pregnant. It had been some rough months, especially after the events that Miles brought to everyone in the HQ. So for Jess, it must’ve been worse.

“Have you seen y/n?” He asked.

“She’s been here for some hours now. She contained the anomaly with Peter and the others” Then where the hell were you?

Suddenly, a loud noise came from the cafeteria.

Miguel and Jess exchanged some looks before walking all over the hallways that would lead them to the cafeteria.

The scene was… interesting.

Hobie was driving the spider-car, you on the passenger seat with Mayday in your arms and spider-plushie on your shoulder.

In the backseat, Miles and Gwen were laughing and looking back.

And chasing the car, Peter B. Parker tries to catch everyone with a poor running pace.

Miguel sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Don’t complain. You married a younger woman…” said Jess laughing at the sight.

Soon, the car disappeared through another hallway, with Peter screaming to stop the vehicle.

“I’m not complaining. But-“ he wouldn’t say it out loud, but Miguel loved you just like you were. He wouldn’t change anything for you.

“I’m not gonna be here soon. You gotta be conscious that you’ll deal with them all alone.”

“I know…” you had a mature side that Miguel enjoyed regarding safety, health, and serious decisions. But he also loved that you remained optimistic most of the time.

And he couldn’t blame you. Back home, you had few real friends, only two girlfriends, and your family.

Both girls were shocked to learn that you were engaged less than half a decade after high school. But they were so supportive, and they accepted Miguel. Same story for your family.

Then spending time with his least favorite coworkers made you happy. So Miguel could handle the annoying moments. Just for you…

“Tell me if I’m trespassing. But… What do you do together? It’s still unbelievable that you two are married.” Miguel gives her a stern look. He doesn’t like to discuss his private (nor public) life with you, but somehow Jess wasn’t a burden of questions like Peter or Miles and Gwen.

“She likes cooking, so we either go to restaurants or cook together. Then she likes spending hours at this giant library near her place,” Jess smiles. Knowing how much you liked spending time between pages and pages.

“So you’re a pleaser. Interesting…”

“Jess…” Miguel warned her. Jessica laughed harder, giving up.

“Okay, okay, sorry. It’s just that… she seems like… the opposite of you. But it also seems like it works well.”

“It does,” he accepts, allowing himself to smile very little.

“Are you taking her on a date this weekend?”

“We haven’t been on a date since… two months?” okay, that sounded terrible for a year and a half marriage.

“Dude…” her tone indicated that it was a catastrophic event, that you and Miguel hadn’t been on a date for so long.

“What? We’re both busy. I’m in charge here; she has work to do here and college stuff. “ it wasn’t that bad. You always made time to make a decent dinner, watch movies, listen to music, and cuddle before sleeping. Miguel couldn’t complain.

“So?” Miguel knew what Jess was about to add. She would say you two didn’t have a child to care about.

And it made him question it. Did he ever see himself being a father again? No.

Would he love to see you pregnant and taking care of a baby? Yes

Would he be able to leave his trauma behind just to be happy again if you asked for a baby?… Maybe.

“I’ll just say it’s a good weekend to spend time together again. Not worrying about work is…Is a relaxed Friday.” she was right.

Maybe Miguel would take her word.

But first, he had to find you.

…

“Would you like to have a date?” His question popped in a way that made you feel like he was asking for the first time again.

You smile brightly, looking up at him with a slight arch on your brow.

“Yeah. I would love that,” he sighs, relieved.

“Your place. It’s better….” you knew he preferred your house. So you would not complain.

“Sure. Then let me clean today, okay?” He nodded.

Unexpectedly you hug him. Your head barely brushed his chest. And since nobody was around, Miguel hugged you back. His hands caress your head softly, touching your hair.

“I love you so much,” you admit with your eyes closed. He knows it’s obvious. Nobody would’ve stood him for so long, even before marriage.

“Me too, bonita,” he replies calmly.

There’s a characteristic pull you do in his rib every time you ask for a kiss.

So he leans again, but there’s time for a long deep kiss this time.

It’s impossible to not miss your body too.

Memories that shouldn’t appear, assault him at that moment.

Honestly, he can’t wait to have you the next night. You never deny him a good time in bed. And Miguel can’t help but be surprised that a small body like yours has long-lasting stamina.

Except when the weather it’s too hot and your low blood pressure can’t take it.

Other than that, you were so determined to take him and endure anything he decided to give you.

Another big reason to love you.

He’s still kissing you. And he can sense how your body temperature increases. He doesn’t have spider sense but swears he can hear your throbs and pulses around nothing.

A cold shower, that’s what he’s gonna need.

“So.. See you tomorrow, amor.” You say one last time. He lets you go and can’t wait for the next day.

Yeah, even when he sees you every day, no matter what.

Because he’s beyond in love with you.

…

As you walk towards your little office, you encounter Peter and Mayday.

“Hey!. You two are still here,” they turned, giving you a big smile.

“Yeah, Mayday can’t leave without a warm bottle of milk from here” You wondered what could make the milk from the HQ something special for Mayday. Maybe it was the mascarpone flavor….

“I want to leave early because this girl needs a bath before tomorrow….” you frown, confused. There’s a lot of trust and a great friendship with the man, even when he is older than Miguel and you. And as much as your husband liked to remark that Peter wasn’t a friend, the truth was obvious.

“What’s gonna happen tomorrow?…”

“I’m having a date with MJ, and we hope her mother can take care of Mayday. Cause if she can’t… maybe we won’t be able to- “

“Miguel and I can take care of her…” you suggest immediately.

“Really? That would be great. But… What about…?”

“Miguel? You know him…He secretly likes Mayday,” you respond.

But then you remember you were supposed to have a date with your husband. You haven’t had an entire day with him outside of work. And he hadn’t fucked you since two weeks ago.

But Mayday couldn’t be such a bother…Right? Like, look at that cute face and baby carrot hairs.

“Well, in that case…Do I bring her?” You nod, completely forgetting about Miguel and what could be his reaction.

“Sure. You know my place, right?” Peter had been there several times before you and Miguel got married.

“Yeah. So… at 7:00 pm? I would pick her up before midnight.”

“It’s fine. Right, baby?” Mayday giggles and keeps drinking from her little bottle.

“Alright then… see you tomorrow” You wave goodbye to the duo and go home.

It won’t be that bad.

____

Miguel opens the door of your house, and the first thing he hears is soft music playing.

My heart's been borrowed, and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my… LOVER!!!!.

You are singing between giggles and pauses.

Okay, he knows the song. He knows you dedicate that whole album to him every time you play it.

And when he enters the kitchen, he wants to pinch his arm to confirm he’s not dreaming.

You are cooking something on the little island: a baby pink dress, red cardigan, hair in a braid.

One hand is stirring something, and the other is… carrying Mayday?

“Oh. Hey, babe!” You greet him, running to give him a peck on the lips.

“Uh…What’s going on?” He asks, pointing at the baby in your arm.

“We’re babysitting her!” Mayday is super concentrated on a piece of watermelon you gave her, chewing and making a mess of her onesie.

“This was supposed to be a date…” he doesn’t want to ruin the mood. But he was expecting some time alone with his wife.

“It is… Peter will pick her up before midnight. We never go to sleep before 2:00am, amor.”

“Great. I have to deal with Peter even on my free day,” you laugh at his exaggerated reaction.

“Oh, don’t be like that. Mayday is a burst of sunshine; she will not trouble us.” When Miguel turns back to see you, the baby is gone from your arms. She’s climbing your kitchen drawers. Your husband instantly panics when he sees Mayday could fall into the boiling water at any moment.

“You have to look after her,” he says to you, eyes switching from you to the baby.

“I’m looking at her…”

“No. You’re looking at the recipe for…mushroom soup?” Mayday trembles, and Miguel runs to basically catch her. But you make a movement that shoots out two webs, making a little swing for her. She coos and laughs happily.

“See? I got her….” you say proudly.

Miguel had to accept you were good at taking care of kids. Making him question it further if he was ready to pop in the question; Do you want a baby?

“Could you two pick a movie? I left some options on the couch” Miguel looks at Mayday, who seems to understand that you need something from her, so stretches her arms to Miguel, asking him to pick her up.

“She’s asking you to lift her, babe.”

He rolls his eyes, and with a grumpy attitude, he picks Mayday in his arms.

You take a mental screenshot of the image. And your baby's fever escalates even more. Only that you swore to not bring up the issue. Because you weren’t ready to find out if Miguel was prepared to try for a baby again.

Miguel and Mayday, they both look at the pair of movies you have out.

All are for kids, but he can easily look at any of those because he would be with you.

And probably would not pay attention.

“Which one do you want?” He asks the girl. She looks at the movies again and points at the pirates and fairies one.

“Good choice,” your husband lets out. Mayday only giggles.

…

Well, Miguel couldn’t sit next to you.

Because Mayday was in the middle. You made her some tofu nuggets with vegetables because you were an almond babysitter. Also cause Peter said Mayday needed to eat more greens.

She happily looked at the movie while she had the plate before her.

Then you and Miguel had mushroom soup with warm bread and salad.

He never failed to flatter your food; never.

You can feel he’s praying for Mayday to fall asleep.

He has some big fuck me eyes, actually begging.

You can’t help but smile and giggle as he rolls his eyes.

For another twenty minutes, the movie continues. But soon, Mayday climbs Miguel and starts resting on his chest, and no more than a minute later, she’s fast asleep.

Both of you are in shock. He doesn’t even know where to place his hands.

Until you stand to place his hands in the right place, one on her head and the other on her back.

Miguel looks astronomically big with the baby in his arms. And once again, you look with a giant pair of heart eyes.

Your head is screaming; give me a baby, please!!!!!!

However, you and Miguel only stare at each other, probably thinking and wanting to say the same.

“I’ll put her on your bed” You nod, thanking him as his broad figure disappears from the living room.

You take the dishes to the kitchen and clean them.

There’s a long pause after drying your hands with a flower towel. You stare vaguely at your window, looking through the flowers Miguel gave you when he arrived.

You can’t ask him, but you want so badly. He’s your husband, your lover. You should be able to ask him, cause you to talk with him about everything and anything.

When you go back to the living room, Miguel is there. The tv is off, and the whole room is in complete darkness except for your window. Which led some light to enter through the curtains.

You look at him; he’s seated on the couch.

Your mouth opens and closes. Because you can’t find the words.

“Do you want a baby?” He asks. It’s sudden, unexpected, and shocking.

“I-…” You are frozen. His eyes had never been so intimidating. Yet, the love you feel when you come closer to sit beside him is more immense.

“I do, but-“Then you think about him. His past, trauma, and sequels he could have.

“I think I’m ready to move forward,” he can make you feel shocked again.

He’s making an effort… Why ruin it?

“You are?…” you ask, taking his hand. He caressed your knuckles, softening the moment.

“Yes. Since some months ago… I’ve seen you the kid, and I want that,” he leans into your touch. The way you caress his cheeks invites him to stay there forever.

“So…Wanna try?” You’ve never been on the pill or anything; just pure luck. Maybe it turned out for the best.

“Yes…” somehow the moment is awkward. But in a cute way because neither of you knows where to start.

“Is the kid completely asleep?” you chuckle on his lips. So you’re trying earlier…

“Completely passed out. Don’t worry, amor. I’ll be quiet” he spreads his big thighs when you straddle him on the couch. Your weight is incredibly relaxing for him, so he cherishes every moment.

“Bonita…You’re never quiet” his comment makes you blush. Miguel loved the power he had to make you feel like a teenager in love yet. And it wasn’t because of the age gap. It was simply the way you were.

“Yes, I’ll be. Promise…”

You weren’t quiet. But at least Mayday snored.

—

Peter is greeted by a sweaty Miguel, and you are all disheveled. His face turns into a grin, a disgusted one. He doesn’t even say hi to Miguel; he just steps into your house.

“You two had-“

“NO!” You deny it immediately, drinking a water bottle, ignoring your friend’s judgmental gaze.

“Yes,” Miguel admits with his usual stoic presence.

“MAN..why?” Peter asks in disbelief. Your blush can’t help but increase until you look like a swollen tomato.

“Guess my baby set the alarms of a baby fever…huh?” Even Miguel wants to laugh but does his best to stand still.

“Yeah, okay. Maybe…” you admit laughing nervously.

Miguel disappears to bring the baby, leaving you and Peter alone.

“So, how was the date?”

“So… How was the tango session?” He starts laughing.

“PETER!” You nudge his arm, joining his chuckles.

“Nah, the date was amazing. Oh, how much I love my wife,” he hears your prolonged aww. Then Miguel appears with a happy Mayday again.

“You woke her?” Peter asks, taking his daughter.

“No. She was awake already.” Your husband replies.

“You know? You two will be good at this” You can’t help but smile widely. You hug your friend quickly before saying bye to Mayday, and a second later…It’s just you and him again.

“This turned… good,” Miguel admits.

“He’s right?”

“What?”

“Peter. He’s right; we’ll be good at this” Finally, you see him smile. A genuine smile that is only reserved for you.

“Promise me that we’ll be careful. That we are going to try so hard to keep it going?” He pleads suddenly. Looking down at you with a slight pout.

“Oh, Miguel. I can’t assure you everything will be perfect. But I’ll do my best for us and upcoming additions. I promise,” he nods, pressing his forehead against you.

And again, it’s all kisses and slow heavy breathings.

“I wanna keep trying….” you reveal between kisses. He smiles; you can feel it. No matter what, he would always have you, but… he would try for that baby.

“I think we’re gonna stay up past bedtime,” you giggle, stretching again to feel his warm lips.

Impatient to feel them all across your body.

But little did you know, you had already been hosting a baby for the past three months.

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#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #atsv x reader #atsv #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara x reader #accross the spiderverse

[timetravellingkitty]

Mulan 2020 sucks lol

Written and edited by yours truly

So, Mulan 2020 happened. And I am disappointed. Seriously disappointed. It is utter garbage. I would genuinely prefer it if I watched Mulan II 5 times in a row, and that's saying something.

There is so much to talk about because this has so many issues. I don't think my brain can handle a movie as bad as this for some time. It is a disgrace to the original animated movie.

(Who cares about spoilers?)

And yes, I can and I will compare it to the original movie because it is a remake. It is totally valid to see where this fell flat and where the original succeeded. I'm not saying it has to be like the original cartoon, that is stupid. As I mentioned, it's to highlight the failures of this movie.

Besides, even if we forget the fact that it is a remake, this movie is still horrible.

INTRODUCTION

Mulan 1998 is a classic. It has great visuals, an awesome soundtrack, wonderful and compelling characters, a great message and a cool plot. It's just a great movie in general. It is an adaptation of The Ballad of Mulan, a Chinese legend. Both the legend and the animated movie are about a young girl named Mulan who disguises herself as a man to take her father's place in the army to fight back against an invasion.

As big of a success Mulan was, Chinese audiences thought some things were weird. For instance, having a dragon be a comic relief character, given that dragons are highly respected in Chinese culture. So of course, Disney decided to try another shot, claiming that they wanted to be more culturally sensitive, accurate and closer to the original ballad.

Mulan 2020 is a remake of the original animated movie, and was marketed to be more "accurate to Chinese culture and the Ballad". This claim is, of course, false, because they failed in that aspect. Say what you will about the cultural inaccuracies in Mulan 1998, but at least it was a great movie. Besides, Mulan 1998 didn't pride or market itself on being culturally accurate, the way Mulan 2020 did, so there's that.

CHANGES

I don't mind some changes. And honestly, if there's one thing I appreciate, it's that it isn't a carbon copy of the original (looking at you The Lion King 2019).

Li Shang's character is divided into two characters: Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, apparently in light of the Me-Too movement. This is a dumb reason. Disney wasn't comfortable with a superior having a relationship with a subordinate? The hell? The romance between Shang and Mulan was only insinuated at the end, when Mulan wasn't even a part of the army anymore, so there's that. Also, Mulan gave her consent, so I don't know what they’re talking about.

Mushu isn't present in the movie. I can see why though. He contributed quite a bit to the soul of the animated version but a CGI dragon would be very distracting. Also, the director said that removed him to achieve a more realistic tone.

Grandma? No grandma. Mulan has a sister though, who only exists to mess stuff up.

The Huns are replaced with the Rourans and Shan Yu is replaced with Bori Khan.

Mushu is replaced with a phoenix, who acts as an emissary for the ancestors

There are no songs, except in the end credits, which isn't a bad thing. The instrumentals of the songs in the animated one play during some scenes (I'll talk about the music, don’t worry)

CHARACTERS

The characters in this movie are so boring. Our lead character Mulan lacks the charisma her animated counterpart had. She's utterly bland, uninteresting and poorly written. In the original, she knew she wasn't physically strong and that she couldn't solve her problems with her strength, so she used her intelligence and wit. She excelled by working hard and being strong willed and determined. This Mulan is a well rounded character.

Mulan in the live action is given Chi powers (Chi is a big part of Chinese medicine, in case you didn't know). Honestly, I wouldn't be as mad at Mulan being given superpowers, had they actually done this properly! Chi isn't like midichlorians, it's something that flows through everyone. Mulan is naturally born with dumb superpowers and has to hide them because as her dad says, " Chi is for warriors, not for daughters”. There is a problem:

It has been mentioned many times that Mulan needs to hide her superpowers otherwise she will be shunned and ostracised. Then why doesn't she get more repercussions everytime she uses her powers? The worst thing that happens is little Mulan getting looks of disgust when she uses them. On other occasions, when she is now a part of the army, she uses her powers in training and she doesn't get any backlash? What the hell?? Then why even bother in the first place?

The only way for this narrative to work is if Mulan got more repercussions for using her powers.

If I were to make the line "Chi is for warriors, not daughters," work, I would make it go something like this:

*At the end of the movie when Mulan comes home*

Dad: Didn't I tell you that Chi is for warriors, not daughters?

Mulan: "I am a daughter, but I'm a warrior too."

(Yes, I know this is similar to a scene in Avatar: The Last Airbender, but this would be better, tbh. Also, watch Avatar: The Last Airbender)

Let me compare the training montages from both movies.

In the animated one, there is an absolutely AWESOME montage of Mulan training side by side with her companions, slowly gaining their trust. She climbs the pillar with both medallions by using her wit, not by brute force. This Mulan worked hard. Besides, the fact that "I'll Make A Man Out Of You" plays over this is the only thing that makes it better (banger song, thank you Donny Osmond)

In the live-action, Mulan is supposed to lift up buckets and climb on top of a mountain. There are also other training scenes, but those aren't very important. In these scenes, she succeeds with the power of CHI. WHY? Mulan here just achieves her goal because she is oh so special. She didn't work to achieve her goal at all, because she is perfect. No struggling or development here at all.

Mulan in the animated version was more concerned about saving her father. Mulan in the 2020 version is a dumb patriot who can't even do patriotism right ("I know my place. It is my duty to fight for the kingdom and protect the Emperor") How very empowering.

In short, live-action Mulan can do no wrong. She has no flaws, no personality and no charm. Everything comes to her pretty easily, because MAGIC.

Li Shang's role in the live-action is divided between Commander Tung and Mulan's love interest Honghui, as mentioned before. Both of these characters are flat, dumb and boring. Tung exists to tell Mulan to cultivate her Chi and to train these idiots (and to offer his daughter’s hand in marriage to her, unaware that Mulan isn’t actually a guy, but eh). Honghui is there to be a stupid love interest, who gives us an “I am Spartacus” moment.

The witch is by far the most interesting character. She actually has more than one side to her, has SOME kind of depth and you can even feel sorry for her. She is supposed to serve as a foil to Mulan, given that both have similar powers. In case you've forgotten (which is something I wouldn't blame you for), she's an outcast who's now working with Bori Khan. Why is she an outcast? Because of her Chi. The witch has said many times that she could kill Bori Khan in a snap, then why doesn't she kill him? Because she needs acceptance? What the hell? She decides to pull out the whole "We're the same, you and I," stupidity to Mulan, and I can see that. It's just that the writers just didn't put much thought into it. “It’s too late for me” because you saw a woman leading an army of men? Also, why does she warn Mulan that Bori Khan is coming? Unless she's playing both sides, except her motivations aren't made clear enough for this to make sense. Finally, she dies for the dumbest reason. God, it just makes me so mad. She had so much potential, but no. They just had to mess her up.

Bori Khan? MORE LIKE BORING KHAN. Not much is there. His animated counterpart Shan Yu was scary and contributed to some of the darkest moments in the movie. This guy over here is just...nothing. That's all I have to say.

Mulan's sister is only there to mess up the meeting with the Matchmaker. What a stupid change. First off in the animated version, it's Mulan who messed up, because she isn't perfect. She fails at being stereotypically feminine AND masculine, but in the live-action, she literally pulls off a Spiderman cafeteria scene, and the blame is put on the sister. In the animated movie, this scene is groundwork for Mulan wanting to prove herself and going on a hero's journey, providing depth to her character, but in the live-action, she's perfect. What is the point? (I know this section was supposed to be about the sister, but eh). The sister doesn't provide anything else to the movie, so thanks! I hate it. Moral of the story: Girls can do anything boys can, as long as they have superpowers. If you are born special like Mulan, you can be respected, whereas if you are like the sister, you have no significance and in the end, you can just fit in and be irrelevant. Congratulations!

The live action group of guys Mulan met and befriended in the army lack the charm and comedic timing of their animated counterparts. That’s it. Seriously. I have nothing more to say about them, because they don't really have anything going on. I don't even know why they are included, because their contribution is nil, save for them blandly speaking lines from the animated version’s songs ("I don't care what she looks like, I care what she cooks like"), which is seriously cringe.

The dad is there to tell Mulan that Chi is for warriors. A shame, because I really liked the dad in the movie. He was a source of wisdom for Mulan, whose greatest honour was having her for a daughter. In the live-action, he just takes the sword that Mulan is given at the end of the movie. The mom is meh.

The emperor is also meh. At least he was wise and cool in the animated version, but here he just does bed sheet kung-fu.

Did I mention that the dynamics between the characters are unnatural, forced, awkward in a bad way and in no way indicates any chemistry between them? Oh yeah, I didn’t, until now. They don’t establish much when it comes to emotion.

Simply put, Khan (Mulan’s horse in the animated version) had more personality than all of these characters combined

PERFORMANCES

Liu Yifei as Mulan was a pretty terrible choice. She is just a block of wood, who has absolutely no range, and this isn't because of the writing. She is genuinely bad, and is regarded as one of China’s worst actors (I kid you not). She just can’t emote.

Jet Li as the emperor is meh. But hey, he doesn’t have much to do, so eh.

Jason Scott Lee as Bori Khan is fine. He doesn’t suck, but he lacks the command and authority of a character who is supposed to be intimidating, but I guess it has something to do with the writing of his character.

Donnie Yen is a martial art legend, but unfortunately, he doesn't have much range as an actor.

The best performance of this movie is that of Gong Li, who played the witch. Honestly, she is charismatic, charming and has an idea of what she is doing.

To save everyone’s time, simply put: most of the performances are bland and mediocre. Partly due to bad writing and partly due to most of the actors not being, well, good at acting.

CULTURAL AND HISTORICAL ACCURACY

So Disney went all “we like cultural and historical accuracy”, which is nice. For example, the Huns are replaced by the Rourans, a real tribe in China around the time Mulan was supposed to be alive. They also removed the hair cutting scene, because as iconic and awesome as it is, it doesn’t make sense. Chinese men wore their hair long too. You know what? I like these kinds of changes. I appreciate accuracy. If only Disney didn’t pride themselves on their accuracy when they got almost everything else wrong (They somehow got Mulan's house wrong lol). I don't know jackshit about Chinese culture so just go watch that Xiran Jay Zhao video it's very swag

THE BALLAD OF MULAN

In a surprising turn of events, this isn't accurate to the Ballad, like they had marketed it to be (I know, I’m shocked too). In a reference to the Ballad, Mulan is riding a horse and she sees two rabbits running side by side. She goes home and tells her family that she saw 2 rabbits, and she thinks that one was male and the other female, but she wasn't sure. This just misses the entire point of the Ballad.

Long story short, Mulan in the Ballad is actually a seamstress. She joined the army in her father's place. She defeats the barbarians and goes on a ten year long campaign with her friends, after which they meet the Son of Heaven (a sacred imperial title of a Chinese emperor). He offers her a high ranking position, which she refuses, because she just wants to go home. She returns home and her family welcomes her. Sometime later, her friends come to visit her, and they find out that she is actually a woman. The friends are shocked because she has been in the army for 12 years and in those 12 years, they didn't even realise that she was a woman.

Mulan then replies:

The male hare's feet hop and skip

The female hare's are muddled and fuddled

But when two hares are running side by side

How can you tell the male from the female?

Which is where the poem ends.

So, Mulan just going on, judging those rabbits like that makes absolutely no sense. The Ballad is about how no matter how different men and women look, when they live and fight amongst each other, who gives a damn about the differences? You know what would have made sense though? If Mulan got off her horse, went close to the rabbits, examined them, and then made the conclusion that one is male and the other is female. This would actually be sticking to the message of the Ballad. Also, why do they make it ambiguous as to whether she accepts the high ranking position? I assume for a sequel (yes, God save my soul). Here we can see another example of its impeccable accuracy to the Ballad.

THIS ISN'T EMOTIONAL AT ALL

Everything that made the original film good has been stripped away. Every moment that is meant to be emotional is very dull. For example, the scene where Mulan makes the decision to take her father's place in the army is supposed to be a very powerful scene. Mulan is risking it all just so her dad can be safe. She might be killed if discovered, and her family would be dishonoured.

When Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she has a moment of reflection while singing "Reflection". This is the beginning of her personal journey, discovering who she is. In this, after Mulan comes back from the Matchmaker, she doesn't have a moment of reflection. The army immediately shows up. Am I really supposed to believe that Mulan feels bad about this? That Mulan is really struggling?

When Mulan’s friends are singing, it suddenly shifts to the striking scene of the burnt village. This, in my opinion, is the best use of tonal whiplash. From this point on, things are getting serious, and the emotional weight of this tragedy is felt. In this, they just randomly show up at the village.​​ There is no seriousness (stop trying to tell me this movie is adult, mature and serious, it just looks like that on the surface).

Their attempts at being emotional are poor and unconvincing, and ultimately, the end product is an emotionless, soulless, depthless entity.

THE MUSIC

The director mentioned in an interview that she didn’t add songs into the movie because it is “unrealistic to break into song when you're in war”, and I don't think I’ve heard anything more false (apart from the concept of a flat Earth). Even I, who isn't going into war anytime soon, know this is false. They instead inserted instrumentals from the original film. Except, it's very weirdly placed. The instrumental for Reflection is placed when Mulan is fighting the Rourans after she reveals herself to be a woman. Like, there isn't any context. In the end credits, they had the original song "Loyal, Brave and True" sung by Christina Aguilera, which was nice. I don't really have much to say in regards to the music. The music is overall forgettable.

THE ACTION

The action may seem weird, but this kind of martial arts is a part of the Wuxia genre, which is what they were going for. Well, they failed. The choreography is bad, the CGI is bad, EVERYTHING is bad. Honestly, if you want a good Wuxia movie, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon exists. The action is here stupid and stiff.

OTHER DUMB STUFF

Why does Mulan take her armour off before going into battle? That is just stupid. Can't you just take the bindings off? Also, WHY OPEN YOUR HAIR-

Mulan really likes kicking spears (and pointy stuff in general). Seriously. It’s weird.

The CGI is okay I guess, I don't know. The phoenix in some scenes looks pink to me. There are some pretty visuals though.

It is very obvious that there is a green screen used in the scene where Mulan and her friends find the burnt village. And it looks bad. Pretty ugly. It looks bad. The green screen looks bad.

The war strategy is just weird. I can't really say anything about it in text form because how am i supposed to describe it, help- (she literally teleported behind the bad guys in the avalanche scene-).

I like how the animated film, which had a dragon as a comic relief and other silly stuff, is more mature than this.

For what joy does Mulan get another sword from the army? Also, shame the dad is all “oh look at the values written on the sword, they are honourable” even though in the original the greatest honour was having her for a daughter.

How was Mulan even able to tell the gender of the rabbits?

Why not just try to send a warning to the Emperor that the Rourans are coming to get him?

Why does Commander Tung let Mulan lead them-

I AM SO DONE

Well, I think I have said everything I wanted to about this movie. I know I havent talked about its controversies (like filming next to a concentration camp), but honestly, I am done. I am so done with this. This document took 5-6 months of my life. I am kind of proud of this, and there isn't much I have done to be proud of. I did procrastinate on this a bit, and I had stuff going on, but finally, I am done. In the future, if I remember something, I'll add it here, but I think that is unlikely. I never want to watch or even go near Mulan 2020 again. It's horrible, and there is barely anything redeemable. I hate it here. It’s been reported that a sequel is in development. If it’s true, of course I’ll watch it, how else am I supposed to validate my self hate? I am also, of course, the resident “friend who suffers for everyone else’s entertainment”. If you want a live action remake of Mulan, Mulan: Rise of a Warrior exists. Go watch it, it’s free on YouTube with subtitles. I really liked it.

If you’ve somehow made it this far, thanks for reading. I congratulate you for putting up with whatever this is. I would also like to take a moment to congratulate myself for actually committing to this. It was painful yet fun to complain about this to the best of my ability. If anyone wants to add anything to this, feel free to do so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m out. I have lost my faith in humanity, and I have other things to complain about.

#this was written 3 years ago. are you proud of me yet #i should mention. the animated mulan is one of my favourite movies ever so 😙 #reva speaks

[mrsreginagold]

Fic: Conditional Is Never Enough

Fandom: Nikita

Pairing: Ari Tasarov x Nikita Mears (Nikari)

Rating: R

Spoilers: Canon divergent AU for season one. Takes place during 1 x 14.

Summary: Instead of leaving well enough alone, Ari follows Nikita after their confrontation at the lodge. What occurs is something neither of them anticipated. 

Author's note: A more recently written fic. Originally I was planning on posting my works in the order they were created but seeing the gifs that @eternal-learner put together recently made me want to put this one up instead.

Nikari Fanmix Here

On AO3

Conditional Is Never Enough

            While it was common practice to consider patience a virtue, in Ari Tasarov’s line of work: it was a skill set. 

            It was also why he wasn’t terribly bothered that Nikita Mears had refused his assistance in the courtyard before she had wandered back into the lodge. 

            He watched as the lovely assassin made her way gingerly up the steps that led to the resort’s lobby. He was certainly no stranger to deception and had ascertained that most of her injuries had been self-inflicted in order throw him off from whatever trickery she was actually planning. However, it was also evident to his trained eye that not everything had been false regarding her current state. 

            For instance: when they first met he had been quick to notice that she favored her right leg over her left, so the fact that she was putting more pressure on her less dominant one alerted him to what he imagined was a sprained ankle. She also was clutching her left shoulder.

            Years of field work for both the KGB and Gogol were enough to draw basic conclusions, but for full answers – he would have to confront her. 

            Additionally, despite knowing that it would probably lead to more rejection, he could not help his concern for her well-being. 

            This last factor was what propelled him forward to follow her inside.

            Ari trailed Nikita through the lobby, unsurprised when she bypassed the elevator. He hurried to catch up with her once she went through a door to the stairwell. 

            His worry about her condition increased when he discovered her struggling.

            Without truly thinking about it, he leapt up the steps, intercepting her path and startling a mild shriek out of her when he abruptly scooped her up in his arms. 

            “Tasarov?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

            “I believe it’s referred to as a bridal carry,” he replied, sarcasm dripping in his resonant tone.

            “Let me go. You’ll drop me,” the flush of her cheeks only served to make his grip on her tighten.

            “You’ll find that I’m stronger than I look.” It was true. Decades of training had gifted him with a remarkably toned body, and he could lift her easily even with the layers of clothing she was wearing, which included a leather jacket and boots. 

            Before Nikita could protest further, Ari took off, ascending a few flights of stairs until he reached the floor he was staying on. 

            The benefit of his spontaneous action was that she was too stunned to struggle, so carting her to his room was done without argument.

            Once they reached their destination, he set her back on her feet, opened the door, and then assisted her inside. 

            He told her to remove her outerwear, boots, and socks. Then, he hung up his overcoat and suit jacket in the provided closet before toeing off his shoes.

            “Go sit on the couch. I’ll be a minute,” he headed over to the adjoining bathroom and located the first aid kit he always carried with him. It was old habit from his days in spy-craft, but currently he was glad that he’d remembered to pack it. 

            Ari rolled up his sleeves to his elbows and made his way back to Nikita’s location. 

            He had to hold back a smile at the utterly perplexed look on her face. “I’ll take a look at your ankle first.”

            “Why are you doing this?” her tone was quiet and inquisitive yet guarded. 

            He expected no less given their history. “I need a reason to help a beautiful, injured woman?”

            “Thank you for not calling me a damsel, but yes. The last time we crossed paths you tried to have me killed, remember?”

            “Unsuccessfully,” he reminded, busying himself with unrolling some gauze. “That has to count for something.”

            She fell silent, and he could feel her keen eyes studying him intently.

            “I’m helping you, Nikita, because despite all better judgement: I like you.” He knelt down so he could inspect her ankle properly. 

            He heard a hitch in her breath when his fingers came into contact with her bare skin and peered up at her. 

            Her features were paler, her mouth parted as she inhaled sharply which betrayed the level of pain she actually was in. 

            His brows knitted in concern, but he refused to let go, instead rotating her foot as gently as he was able. “What happened?”

            “The roads were icy, so my bike skidded, and I had to veer to keep from falling. I must have sprained it then.”

            “Well it’s not terribly swollen, thank goodness. You should keep off it for a while though.” He reached for the gauze so he could wrap it. 

            “Something tells me you’re going to insist on that.”

            “Yes.” He coiled the bandage several times around before tying it off. “You’re going to stay right here and rest.” 

            “Ari, there’s a dirty bomb in your agency’s hands, do you really think I’m going to let that go?”

            “Of course not,” he moved to sit beside her. “You can waste as much time you want trying to steal it back after you’re healed. Now…about your shoulder.”

            “I think I just bruised it a little,” she pushed the collar of her blouse to the side to take a look for herself. 

            “Would you let me see?” 

            She hesitated for a moment before nodding. 

            With great care, he unbuttoned her shirt enough so he could slide the sleeve down. 

            There was some pale mottling evident on her lightly tanned skin, and delicately, he touched the area to see just how tender it was.

            Nikita flinched a little and let out a gasp.

            “Sorry,” he met her eyes, reaching out instinctively and brushing her hair away from her gaze.

            They stared at each other, and he could tell that the apprehension in her was slowly melting away.

            Determined to gain some trust, he leaned forward and grazed his lips over her forehead. “I think I have some ointment that’ll help, let me go look for it. In the meantime, why don’t you make yourself comfortable?”

            She nodded wordlessly and he finally willed himself to part from her, even though in his heart he didn’t want to let her go. 

            When he was alone in the bathroom again, he breathed in shakily to calm the swirl of emotions that had begun to gather within him. Nikita had the distinct ability to disarm him with the simplest of looks or words, and he could feel his resolve to keep things professional begin to crumble. 

            He searched for the bottle and muttered to himself that this was no way for a grown man to act, undoing a few buttons to his collar so he could breathe a bit easier. 

            Ari returned after his search proved fruitful, and nearly dropped the procured bottle when he saw Nikita sprawled out on her side on the couch, propped up on her uninjured elbow, her shirt fully discarded so that she was solely in her bra and leggings now. 

            “I thought it would be easier,” she gave him a wide-eyed, patently innocent look, which made him wonder if she had practiced it before he had emerged. 

            He swallowed, hard, and then took a step forward. “I suppose that depends on your definition of easier.”

            “The shirt was in the way.”

            “Yes, and now you’re even more of a distraction than before,” he countered.

            “I highly doubt it’s your first time seeing a woman in her bra,” Nikita chuckled.

            “No; but it’s my first time seeing you this way. You’re a very beautiful woman, Nikita,” Ari gestured for her to sit up, so he could apply the ointment. 

            “You think so?” though she did as he requested, she threw a glance at him over her shoulder, fluttering her eyelashes coquettishly.

            “Don’t play coy with me,” he shook his head while drawing the strap of her undergarment down cautiously. “Did you honestly think that you could entrance me long enough to let my guard down so you could take off?”

            “You think so little of me.”

            “Actually I think the opposite,” he took hold of her arm to keep her steady. “Stay still, this will probably sting a bit.” Being deliberately tender, he applied some of the cream and rubbed it in a small circle to ensure that it covered the full area of the bruising. 

            In spite of how meticulous he was being, she still whimpered in pain, though to her credit, she remained still for the rest of the treatment. 

            The silence stretched between them as he worked, until, finally, she muttered. “How did you know?”

            “Know what?”

            “My plan.”

            “In many ways, Nikita, you are an open book. Whenever you panic, you grow bold. I know that under normal circumstances you’d never bare yourself so openly, especially to me, so there had to be a reason.”

            “You didn’t just think you’d gotten lucky?”

            He snorted and finished treating her wound. “I’m not that lucky when it comes to you. There. Done.” He pulled her bra strap back up. “How does the shoulder feel now?”

            “Still a little sore, but better.” She rotated her arm cautiously. 

            “And the ankle?” 

            “It twinges, but I think the wrap is definitely helping.” 

            “Good.” He gathered his supplies and stood up again. “You hungry?”

            She blinked rapidly at the change in subject. “What?”

            “Are you hungry? Look, I know I can’t force you to stay but I’d rather you rest somewhere you’ll be safe, even for a couple of hours. I’ll order us some room service,” he located the remote to the television. “And you can find us a movie. If by the time that it’s done: you’re ready to go, I won’t stop you. I promise.”

            “You’re being so nice that it’s disturbing,” she grumbled petulantly, but accepted the remote. 

            “And put your shirt back on, please, I can only take so much diversion.” Ari chuckled, moving back towards the bathroom so he could put everything away. 

            “Maybe I’ll just take the rest of my clothes off instead, what’ll you do then?” she called out. 

            “Then I’ll bring you a blanket and close my eyes.”

            He was treated to the first genuine laughter that he had heard from her. With a grin, he grabbed the room service menu and perused it before landing on something he felt would appeal to them both. 

            Nikita was back to being fully dressed when he returned and flipping rapidly through TV channels with a frustrated expression on her beautiful face. “Why is it that they have like, 200 options here and there’s nothing on?!”

            He laughed and settled next to her. “Are you even looking for more than two seconds?”

            The awkward silence that resulted gave him an answer and he took the remote from her with little struggle. “Let me try.”

            “What’d you get for dinner?” She shuffled closer, her arm brushing his. 

            “You’ll see when it arrives,” he nudged at her teasingly and brought up the guide. “Hmm…let’s see. What could possibly entertain the enigmatic Nikita Mears, I wonder?”

            “It doesn’t have to be all about me here,” she shrugged. “What types of movies do you like?”

            “Depends on my mood. It can be horror one minute, a romantic comedy the next.” He admitted. 

            “Huh. I could actually go for campy and scary right now. Maybe we can find an 80’s slasher or something.”

            “That actually does sound perfect,” he scrolled through the choices offered to them. 

            “Ooh! Which Nightmare on Elm Street is that?” She leaned further into his side when she spotted the title.

            “Looks like it’s three. Isn’t that the one where Nancy dies, though?”

            “Yeah but it’s also the best one since the first. Also why am I not surprised you like Nancy?”

            “Pretty, strong willed, smart, brunette? Hmm…I wonder who I’m reminded of.”

            He was treated to a lovely blush on her part at the comparison, and she cleared her throat before insisting that he put the film on. 

            They adjusted some of the pillows on the couch so they could sit more comfortably, though he did have to leave briefly around ten minutes in so their food could be brought inside.

            “Lasagna?” Nikita grinned and gratefully took the plate that he offered her. 

            “I know you’re mainly vegetarian,” he confessed, sitting beside her once more and cutting into his own portion. “There weren’t a huge number of options that didn’t have meat, and it’s probably not as good as what I could pull together if we were at my place, but hopefully it’s decent enough.”         

            “Well now I’m curious what yours would taste like in comparison,” she shook her head and then had a bite. 

            Oh, how that filled him with the hope that, someday, he could provide an answer for her, but he didn’t dare voice it.

            He waited till she voiced her approval of it before sampling the dish himself, and, for something he wouldn’t ordinarily order for himself – it was admittedly tasty. 

            They ate in companionable silence while watching the film, and then he left again to clear their plates and roll the table the food had come on back outside. 

            When he came back, Nikita had curled up on one side of the couch and was resting her feet on the coffee table to elevate her damaged ankle. 

            He resumed his spot next to her and gestured at her state. “You okay?”

            “Yeah, I took some more Tylenol and figured propping it up would do some good,” she glimpsed in his direction, attention distracted from the admittedly lesser sequel that was now playing on the television. “They’re marathoning them. This was always my least favorite.”

            “Why is that?” 

            “The whole bit where the girl gets turned into a cockroach messes with me.” She shuddered, even though the film was currently nowhere near that part. 

            He scooted closer and casually draped an arm over the back of the couch. “You can always hide your face when it gets there. I won’t judge.”

            “Body horror doesn’t bother you?”

            “Not really, though I get why it does for a lot of people.” He shrugged. “Horror has always fascinated me more than any other film genre, for some reason.”

            “There are studies about that,” she remarked, right before resting her head on his shoulder which startled him more than any jump scare possibly could.

            When had she moved so close anyway?

            Ari became hyper aware of the woman next to him due to her proximity, shutting his eyes to inhale her scent – strawberry and hints of vanilla with something else inherently feminine that he couldn’t quite place – before he carried the conversation further. “Studies, you say?”

            “Mmm-hmm…turns out, people love being scared because of the endorphins that adrenaline produces. It’s why they watch these types of things in droves.”

            “I think I read something on the subject once,” he stated. “And it makes sense, as these kinds of films are often similar to the experience of going on a roller coaster.”

            “They also happen to be responsible for a ton of hook-ups because they make people super horny.” 

            She phrased it so casually that he was absolutely sure that she was joking, and then her hand landed on his thigh.

            Ari blinked, freezing in place. “I’m sorry?”

            “Well, I mean it’s all hormones in the end anyway,” he felt Nikita shift against him, her fingers inching subtly upwards. “Doesn’t surprise me one bit, really.”

            She had to be testing him, there was no other reasonable explanation for her current action. 

            “And that’d be why you’re touching me that way, is it?” he decided to forego tact, wanting a clear answer almost as much as he wanted her. 

            She shook her head, chuckled, and then her lips grazed lightly along his neck. “That’s more a personal curiosity.”

            He inhaled sharply when her teeth scraped against sensitive skin, her hand finally lifting from his leg as she turned fully towards him to bestow proper attention.

            Clever fingers delved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing several slowly while her soft mouth trailed across his Adam’s Apple. 

            Ari was unable to stave off a moan when Nikita straddled him, her hips rotating provocatively and causing a hot jolt of arousal to ease up his spine.

            “This isn’t expensive, is it?” she whispered, tugging playfully at his top. 

            “No, I have a few like it at home,” he managed, his hands hovering right over the small of her back, not daring to touch her just yet. 

            There was a tearing sound, buttons flying as she ripped the garment fully open. “Good, because I’ve been wanting to do that for the better part of the afternoon.”

            The expertly wound threads of his control snapped. In the next instant, he lunged forward, claiming her mouth in a passionate kiss. 

            He poured as much emotion as possible into the embrace, letting her know just how deeply he cared for her even if lust was currently driving them. 

            Judging by the way she returned the affection; it was clear she felt the same way. 

            They toppled back on the couch, Nikita emitting a pained sound that immediately made him pull back and mutter an apology. 

            “I just landed on my shoulder harder than I meant to,” she shoved his ruined shirt down his arms, eyes glittering happily when he yanked his hands free and cast it to the side.

            “Still, we should probably move to the bed, it’s more comfortable,” he nuzzled at her sweetly.

            “Sounds good,” she replied, her nails scratching purposefully through the hair on his chest, traveling down sculpted planes to coast languidly across his abdomen and causing more pleasant heat to erupt in his system. 

            He hoisted her up with minimal effort, carting her to the bedroom while helping her out of her blouse. 

            He couldn’t help but be impressed when she cast off her bra one-handed, and then they sank into the plush nest of blankets and pillows.

            Their remaining clothing formed a pile on the floor and naked limbs entangled naturally, the pair meeting repeatedly in ardent kisses. 

            While desire was certainly at the forefront, Ari was also determined to ensure that this wasn’t merely a one-time thing. He was intentionally delicate in how he touched her, mindful of the injuries she was still recovering from. 

            His mouth strayed from hers to dart firefly kisses along the slender column of her throat, his hands keenly exploring her bare flesh while he made mental notes of where she happened to be more reactive for later. 

            For her part, Nikita was just as intently discovering him, her hands and lips seeming to go anywhere that she could reach.

            Amused by her insistence, he eventually pinned her hands against the blankets, so she paused and caught her breath a little. “Hey…if you don’t mind my asking, how long has it been?”

            Her pretty face was flushed with color. “A while. I mean, Daniel was the last one to…”

            His expression softened as he noticed a melancholy look surface in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Nikita. I know how rough it is to try to be normal in this world we’re in.”

            She stroked over his back. “I guess that’s why I’m clinging so much. It’s the first time I’ve felt something other than pain and heartache in what feels like forever.”

            “You’re not clinging,” he dipped his head, kissing her lightly. “At least, not in a way that I mind. And now that I know that it’s been a while since you indulged in this, I’ll go slow.”

            She sighed against his mouth. “How can the man who helps run such a criminal empire be so considerate?”

            “That man happens to be very much in love with you,” he mumbled, and then went eerily quiet as he realized just what he let slip. 

            “Ari…”

            Tentatively, he met her eyes, his heartbeat a rapid staccato. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t the way I meant to tell you.”

            “What, you think it means less if you happen to be naked and on top of me?” Nikita raised a brow. “I hate to break it to you, but that’s not the case here.

            “I just didn’t want to make things complicated,” he explained, caressing along the shape of her jaw. “Though I do mean it. Since the moment we met, I was drawn to you.”

            Her fingers swept across his torso. “I was drawn to you too. And you haven’t complicated anything. You’ve always been truthful with me, so, I’ll be honest with you. I’m not quite there yet, but: I want to see where whatever this is between us leads. I care about you, Ari Tasarov. Now why don’t you stop overthinking, make love to me, and we can discuss everything else later?” 

            His reply was to nod, kiss her soundly, and press her more firmly into the blankets. 

            They reclined together, embracing fervently, over, and over until he parted long enough to admire the wanton image that she made below him. 

            Her dark hair was feathering out along the pillows, offering stark contrast to the pure white. Her equally dark eyes glinted alluringly, beckoning him towards her.

            He went willingly, his mouth drifting over her right shoulder before moving down to pay specific attention to her breasts. At the same time, one hand ghosted over the curve of her hip before delving between her legs.

            She bucked against him, crying out while he artfully brought her near to the brink, waiting until just the right moment to look at her and silently ask permission. 

            She granted it. 

            He joined them in one elegant, fluid thrust, his hands slipping behind her back to cradle her against him as he allowed her a few moments to get used to the way he felt within her. 

            Then – he dove in for another kiss, starting them off with a gradual, rocking motion that encouraged the cant of her hips once she had adjusted properly. 

            Nikita dragged him against her for a grateful embrace, grasping at his biceps when their movements began to lose grace and gave way to a wild, natural need.

            It was easy – so easy – for Ari to lose himself; unable to tell where he ended and she began, allowing her to consume him entirely until they both fell, complete in every sense. 

            Morning arrived, bringing with it pale sunshine that filtered through the hotel room window, which then washed over the lovers dozing in bed. 

            They were still a hopeless tangle with one another and the rumpled sheets, Nikita sprawled mostly on top of Ari, while his arms were curled securely around her.

            He was the first to stir, bright blue eyes opening slowly and attuning to their surroundings before he remembered exactly what had occurred. 

            With a warm smile, he skimmed his fingers across her back, content to hold her till she was willing to wake. 

            They had indulged in each other multiple times throughout the night, so it was no wonder that despite the fact that it was arguably the best sleep he’d experienced in months – they were still both exhausted. 

            Ari nuzzled at Nikita’s tousled hair when he felt her stretch against him, her hands plotting a course blindly along his side before she finally looked at him with a bleary-eyed expression. 

            It took all of his willpower not to laugh over how adorable she happened to look. “Morning.”

            “Morning,” she ducked her head to plant a kiss on his chest in greeting. Then she yawned and stretched again, decidedly more cat-like. “What time is it?”

            He risked a glance at the clock on the bedside table. “Around 8.”

            “I should go,” her reluctant tone implied that she wished the opposite. 

            “Without breakfast?”

            “Breakfast would lead to spending the morning together, which would lead to more of this and before you know it – we’ve passed a week in this place.” She peered up at him. “And as much as I’d like nothing more, at some point your bosses would get suspicious, not to mention that Division is still out there, stronger than ever even without that stupid bomb –

            “Nikita,” he placed his fingers over her mouth to stop her mid-tirade. “I wasn’t implying forever here.”

            “I know, but I’m starting to want forever,” she designed invisible patterns along his torso. 

            His heart skipped a beat. “And I want to give you that, but we aren’t remotely near the point yet.”

            “No, but maybe if I said yes to your proposal to work together we could get there?” She sighed. “It’s not that I want to work with Gogol, but the idea of being on the opposite side of you now, after all this…”

            He swept her hair back over her shoulder. “Then you won’t work with Gogol. You’ll work with me.”

            She looked at him, genuine curiosity in her gaze. “And what would that entail?”

            “Hopefully plenty of mornings like this one,” he admitted, tugging her to him beneath the covers. “And eventually – both of the organizations that plague us being brought down.”

            “You mean, you want to be free?” she nudged at his nose with her own. “I thought you were after power.”

            “See, that’s what you get for jumping to conclusions,” he teased, coaxing at her lips with his. “What I want, Nikita, is to be happy. With you, if you’ll let me.”

            Her response was to draw him into a loving kiss, which told him more than words could. 

            They embraced leisurely, Ari bearing Nikita gently back against the pillows while he settled on top of her, framing her face between his hands and nipping at her lips before tugging back to appreciate the vision before him.

            “By the way, how’s the shoulder and ankle?”

            “Better than before, but I should probably continue to take it easy till I’ve healed completely, don’t you think?”

            He nodded, and then stole another kiss, at peace with the knowledge that, for the time being, she was going to remain exactly where she belonged. 

The End

#ari x nikita #nikari #mine #mrsreginagold #peter outerbridge #ari tasarov #nikita mears #nikita 2010 #fanfiction #ari tasarov x nikita mears #otp: enemy mine #otp: this is the life we've chosen

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

(Warhammer Fantasy Battle AU) Warhammer Whackheller AU Pt.1 (Old World Humans)-Modernized with altered Grittiness

In Warhammer Whackheller AU(or WH Whack, if you prefer it short), Archaon the Everchosen’s End Time attempt went utterly failed. Mallus (A.K.A. World-That-Was) stayed, as its civilizations, even ultraconservative Lizardmen, primitive Greenskins, and Norscans had developed in technologies and ideologies. However, situations remain gritty and grimdark. Yet it has some extra flavors of modern lifestyles, diplomacy(that lead to conflicts, or even wars),  and CAPITALISM!. Even in the realm of Chaos, it has turned like Hell from Vivziepop (Like, in Hazbin Hotel or Helluva Boss).

Humankind

Empire of Men: Among the religious conflicts between Sigmarite and Ulrican, there was an Empress (thanks to her dad having no son) who came up with a compromise; Sigmar is Ulric’s reincarnation, and both teachings are acceptable. Plus, she made the reformation of the new faith, calling it ‘Reikite Temple’. 

The College of magic and Engineer Guild, meanwhile, had competitions for who would lead the Empire's future. The Empress and a few monarchs after her just threw money on both to accelerate the advances. The Recent Emperor; Salmeul, decided to dissolve both and form several Imperial centric versions of them instead. 

Bretonnia: Due to Peasants’ uprisings, with a random clergy ‘went Martin Luther’; he made another sect of Lady of The Lake where everyone equally received blessings from their version of ‘the lady’. Situations ended up with the first ruling Queen’s compromising, allowing females to be knighted, and less seats for the noble families’ knights for “granted peasant knights”. Ideology of “Lady of Ocean” is the new popularity for its larger water body for all lives. Plus, allowing progressive and favoring exploration of sciences and expedition. However, it is still slow and behind most of the other humans’ nations. However, it is the only country with large numbers of knights with firearms and armors.(Maybe everybody else has better units?)   

Marienburg/Westerland: The conservative Knights of Bretonnia, Dissolved Figures from Empire, and even some other humans who prefer the old ideologies went there. However, it eventually became a kind of semi-autonomous state where the Empire, Bretonnia, and Kislev use it for being their docks, factories, and warehouses. It is an even juicier target for Norscan, yet, the investors also put some forces prepared to protect their goods.

Kislev: Kislev remains hardened, yet, they allow more freedoms and liberty, as long as they have more soldiers for their defense against different foes(Ogres, Vampires, Skaven, and Chaos). Some of them are feminism, transgenderism, same-sex marriages, adopting orphans encouragement, and acceptance of more immigrants with standard. That causes the social dividation into three sides; Conservative, Hardened Socialist, and Armed Liberals. 

Conservatives stirred conflicts between the latter two, so they can stay without them overthrowing their older power.

Tilea: After Emperor Salmeul of Empire dissolved the Engineer Guild and College of Magic, large numbers of its engineers and magicians migrated to the Southern realms(Tilea, Estalia and Border Prince Confederacy). Tilea itself was focused on expanding their colonies rather than its own mainland. Such a decision caused Tilean’s governments to be more controlled by the Empire migrated scholars who were against the new Emperor. The merchant princes and mercenaries were mostly forced to pick their sides; Pro-Old Power, Pro-Empire Descents, or even join the rising Empire. 

The war ended with the victory of Pro-Empire “Usurper”, forming a federation of Tilea. It was considered by remnants of Tilean powers, who fled to different colonies as “The False Rulers”. The scattering or Tilean powers led to the formation of the “Tilean Commonwealth”, with its Headquarter around the Northwest Southland. 

Estalia: Being invaded by Skavens, Sartosan Pirates, and Greenskins, Estalia had suffered both politically and economically. Most kingdoms had fallen, or accepted to join Tilea or Bretonnia’s causes. One of the remnant kingdoms, Nerja, miraculously defended its kingdom from combined forces of Skavens and Norscans. Its king claimed to accept the new church based on the Four Gods; Solkan, Allumnias, Astasis, and Daora. The King believed these four deities could counter the power of chaos, and being its holy version. 

However, the temple itself was made centuries ago as a smaller sect which some might consider heretical. Somehow, with the victory mentioned, as few more afters, the belief spread among southern realms. Eventually, Nerja reclaimed most of its lost regions, forming a loose form of federated kingdoms under Nerja as its main seat.(Like England in the UK).

Border Prince Confederacy: Due to political shifts, Border Prince Confederacy had mostly divided into subjugation of its borders. Some even joined dwarves to be smaller parts of their nations. The remaining power moved downward to Badland, where they fought with the local Greenskins and smaller weaker Dwarven Holds. Seeing the benefits of the situations, the High Elves aided them with magic and political favors. Some of the High Elves even embrace its technology somehow, and become part of the new Border Prince Confederacy after being banished by Ulthuan. They are still unstable, and somehow unrecognized. Yet, they are a real domain to be respected.

Part 2: Because words limits.

#warhammer #warhammer fantasy #warhammer old world #wh fantasy #wh fanfic #wh au #warhammer au #vivziepop #helluva boss #hazbin hotel #fictional politics #modernized au #modern au #bretonnia #empire of man #reikland #marienburg #kislev #kislev warhammer #Tilea #Estalia #Border Prince Confederacy

[a-weird-writer]

Given how manipulative our beloved stardroids are, I’d say there’s a high chance of them being yanderes of sorts. Moreover manipulative but some being more isolating than others.

Speaking my language, anon.

Terra is a fine example of yandere. He strides to steal everything and much more from you and all else you may know, burn your beloved home world down to bitter ashes and dust. No amount of bloodshed, devotion or worship you show will ease the hardships he drives you through, everything is for Terra's own personal gain and entertainment.

Terra is the prime definition of danger, a harbinger of negativity. Physically and mentally abusive even with his own family, critical in every shape and form, so no soft spots. You can't love a pet; you can only 'care' for it. 'Care' is already a huge stretch for whatever Terra feels for his S/O. Towards his darling, no true generosity lays in his sharp smile, no kindness above what he personally believes they deserve, which is very little, might I add.

The pride in his talents is truly massive, one who reaps fear and terror. With an ego high as kites, Terra is perhaps unhinged but a mighty foe to face. "Destructive', to use a better word.

His pride isn't out of place,

completely anyway.

Terra is the embodiment of a master manipulator and is far from a fool. Isn't as easy to trick him as it will be easy for him to trick you. The arrogance he lays within his strength plays a large role in his play, as he bats no eye to lie nor to keep secrets under the carpet.

Hell, he probably doesn't even bother to deny hiding things from you. Assuming he doesn't have cards aplenty up his sleeve already. He is just that confident in meeting victory, determination is one hell of a drug, Terra is almost always ripe in motivation. He is a destroyer after all, he never runs away from his target.

That said, Terra isn't above creating an entire shadow of his former self to lead you in a false sense of trust and security. Given he destroys planets and genocides weak races for a living, guilt is next to utterly absent in his mind. Psychopathic, if not, then sociopathic.

It all becomes worse for wear when you finally fall, right where Terra wants you, sitting in the controlling palms of his hands. Ideally with a lowered head and devoted, submissive eyes.

Underestimating Terra's careless conscious is the last thing on Earth you ever want to do. Because when he proves you wrong-and he will prove you wrong-you're going to regret everything you ever did to piss him off. Never soft, never ever compassionate; Terra's mood is pretty fickle on his best days, even then you're always on edge. Always dancing on thin ice, and that ice grows thinnest when boredom suddenly hits.

And Terra enters his worst state when he's bored, because he finds any excuse-any at all-to take it out on you. And best believe he will find one.

Occasionally, merely a glare sets him off, other times it's when your pain and suffering doesn't entertain as much as it used too. Sometimes he gives you complete isolation all together, which honestly, are your best days. You are a pet to him, a weak plaything. And he has no plans to treat you any better sooner or later. Overall, Terra's temper is a fine line in-between what is humanly normal and whatever the fuck robotic aliens identify as insane.

You learn quickly that fucking with Terra never ends well, for you at least. Terra talks to you like trash, in the voice of a disappointed mother and plays games like an impatient child, waiting for their precious toy to do something interesting, only to be angry when nothing actually happens.

Terra's solution?

Make something happen.

Everything is difficult on purpose, to drive you mad. To mess with you and give Terra sincere pleasure and glee. He wants you anxious, wants you dependent and obedient to a fault. Through trauma and pain, you will learn your place, prove your usefulness. Nonetheless, reguradless of how find he may grow, Terra will always figure out another way to hurt you.

His impatience is a plague, a disaster in your daily life underneath the filth in the floor, the dirt at his feet. Centimeter aways from tearing a limb off and leaving you to silently rot all alone in whatever hellhole planet your caged in. He is no doubt cold, cruel and wears his sadistic nature like a badge of honor. With the potential to be worse on top of that. He will go far, further and even further than wherever 'further' is. Being no stranger to pushing the limits and going beyond to ensure he reaches his desires and achieves his goals. If it works, if it proves useful in gaining the most preferred result, Terra will do it.

Sunstar expects nothing but perfection from his underlings, it was hammered into Terra's head since his first awakening into this pathetic existence. And Terra cares not for failures, to never give anything less but the best, no matter who it hurts on the other end.

Including you.

Pain is all Terra truly knows, all he has ever gave or took from anyone in the vast universe he has divided and conquer for his dear lord. Terra is tough, extreme. The most useful and strongest tool Sunstar has ever had in his arsenal. Sunstar's right hand man, his most trusted lead strategist, and it shows.

Despite all this, Terra is only the second most dangerous yandere amongst the Stardroids, excluding Sunstar.

#ask #anonymous #anon #megaman #classic mega man #stardroids #terra #tw yandere #yandere #yandere terra #tw abuse #tw abuse mention #tw emotional manipulation #tw emotional abuse #tw mentions of violence #tw genocide #tw dismemberment #tw mention of death #tw anxiety #well it mentions it but im putting the warning anyway #its yandere stardroids what did you expect? #im tried so ill edit this laterrr

[laufire]

I'll probably pass on making more general/extensive posts on the subject since tumblr doesn't know the show xD, but what the hell, I might as well keep mentioning in little tidbits what I'm enjoying about "La Promesa" so far.

one thing is the showtp, which is a miracle in itself! they're hardly what I'm most interested in (that's THEM <3), but so far I've found them charming in spite of everything they have staked against them lol.

for some context: Jana's the lead character, a working class girl with a secret that got a job on the house so she could uncover the truth about her mother's murder and her brother's abduction. She's talented, witty, strong-willed and overall a very good protagonist (she'd be called a Mary Sue by certain fans AND I LOVE THAT ABOUT HER LMAO).

Manuel, male lead & love interest, is the first child of the lord's second marriage, second son overall. BUT. his mommy (Cruz, main antagonist, beloved) kiiiiinda stabbed the first son so now Manuel is the heir xD. however, he's not interested in such a position, as he cares mainly about building and flying aeroplanes, and like anybody with two working braincells, he thinks the elder sister should be the one to manage the state, as the one with both the ability and the will for it.

they meet when he sees her trick and manipulate her way into a job at the house. he finds this VERY charming, apparently LOL (he's right). he falls in love fully when later in the day she saves his life after an aeroplane crash (and then uses this to strong arm her way into a permanent job. I think that sealed the deal for him).

anyway. they have a few nice scenes here and there (Jana is not immune to her charms but she's far more concerned about a.) her family's mystery, and b.) helping the maid falsely accused of the heir's murder. who coincidentally has the same name as her mother and I wish the show did more with that). one such subplot is when he offers to fly her in the middle of the night to get a ~brand new remedy~ (adrenaline) that Jana, against the family's doctor, insist it's the only thing that could save the cook's life (she's right, and Simona lives).

but mainly I was SO utterly charmed by how this went:

Manuel: *gets drunk because his brother is dead, his parents are assholes, and the cops consider him a suspect* Manuel: *earnestly declares Jana "the most daring, intelligent, resolute woman I've ever met" in a way that clearly means "I love you", presents his lips for a kiss* Manuel: *profusely apologises the next day, amused when Jana repeatedly makes fun of him* Jana: *gives him a hangover remedy... that includes incredibly spicy chilli peppers as both a caring gesture AND a punishment*

#it was the pepper that sold it asldkfjaf #(also looking at the pictures made me realise he's a pretty good fc for comics tony stark ñasaflk. if i could find a pic in pilot uniform.. #talking to the void #my thoughts #la promesa #promesa thoughts #patriotic tag #jana expósito #manuel luján #jana x manuel #id in alt text #captioned

[emptymanuscript]

Punisere

Punisere might give a character beliefs in:

Stories are more important than reality

Astrology

Loyalty is stronger than law or tradition

Law is the last resort of the dull witted

Tradition is the beginning of wisdom

Emotions are like storms, tumultuous and powerful but brief and passing

Freedom is the end of wisdom but you must reach the end to understand it

Trusting their instincts

Problems may become solutions

Everyone is family if you trace the lines long enough

Everyone is an enemy if you count every action they've ever taken

Only they dying should stay sedentary too long

Justice comes from love not form

Better a life lived well than a life lived safe

A person is not what they do, what they do comes from who they are

It’s likely to produce above average:

Comfort with a nomadic lifestyle

Cleverness with words

Freedom of expression and emotion

Disrespect for the laws and formalities of others

Curiosity

Resilience

Being raised in Punisere might give character drives like:

 Experience something of beauty or grace

Lead another to act despite fear or doubt

Uncover something about a mystery

Use your art to help those in need

Free someone from literal or figurative bonds

Give hope or cheer to someone who needs it

Deny mercy to an enemy

Give mercy to those who never expect it

Forget trespasses that are long gone

End someone or something’s suffering

Help an animal or spirit of the wild

Settle a conflict or dispute without bloodshed

Share a passionate moment with another

Get someone to act on factually false but emotionally true information

Show someone a place/thing of great beauty

Convince others to protect a thing of nature

Let a problem escalate while you brood

Cause trouble for your allies by acting rashly

Cause your allies trouble by adhering strictly to your oaths

Cause trouble by touching, opening, or tinkering with something

Infiltrate a secure or dangerous location

Create or discover something that helps other people

Take a major risk to acquire something valuable

Travel to or discover a spiritually significant place

Provide or be the catalyst for change in the world

Expose or reveal the true cause of a problem in the world

Uphold your personal code of honor despite the cost or inconvenience

Purposefully ignore class distinctions to cause inconvenience

Help something or someone grow or move on to the next step in the cycle

Utterly obliterate something significant or meaningful that you oppose

Endanger yourself to combat an unnatural threat

Spur others to significant and unplanned decisive action

Help someone deal with or overcome their personal problems

Stand up to a bully or tyrant, or forego comfort or advantage in order to do the right thing or help someone worse-off

Eschew a convention of the civilized world

But, of course, someone living as a Tri Poke out beyond the firm boundaries of Civilization might just as well be there as a way to distance themselves from the way people are back home. Though they'll have a hard time of it as being a Tri Poke will feel like taking home with them.

The Punisere Dessert may have been the heart of an Empire some time before their are any historical records but who can say for sure. Puniseri will tell you whichever story they think you want to hear as that's only polite. A good story is the best gift a Puniseri can give and if they have to lie a little to make the story good, well, that's them working for the greater good.

This makes it very difficult for outsiders to figure out what the hell is going on in Punisere and it's difficult enough for the Puniseri who live there. The Punisere is divided up by unmarked boundaries and complicated, often unspoken, clan loyalties. Some of the great migratory nations are so ancient that they were already ancient when most histories start. But new nations pop up and disappear all the time in the ravaging heat of the desert. Outsiders go mad trying to figure out which is which and who belongs to who and how the hell multiple nations can consist of the same people on the same sands at the same time. One nation might be the best friend of another. And the bitterest enemy of a third, to even state the name would be a crime. But a single person might belong to all three quite happily.

Puniseri who leave Punisere or come from a distant part of the desert know better than to try and figure it out and simply accept it without comment. They understand the complexity of bloodlines and the few communal legends that bind all Puniseri.

Whether they believe them true or not, all Puniseri know the legends of their people's origins. Long ago when humans were still a rarity, the stars of the constellation Orwolael looked down on the beauty of the world and fell in love with the beauty of the desert. They did not know the Punisere was hot because they saw the desert only after sunset was gone and only until sunrise wiped their vision away. One night, gazing at the dessert, they saw an eye winking back at them and their hearts were seduced by thinking the desert was growing stars to love them back. So fourteen of the fifteen stars rushed to the glow to profess their love, only the last, the meekest, thinking itself unworthy of such a gift remained shyly in the sky, and only it is called Orwolael now. But the fourteen who fell came to the winking light and found it was their own light glowing back at them from the water of a great oasis. They cried bitterly in their disappointment, stuck forever now on the desert sands, and their tears, purer than any stream that runs down from a mountain, filled up the oasis so deep that the water would never go dry, even in the hottest summer. And when they had cried themselves out and found no solace except their hesitant sibling's winking pity, they tried to drown themselves in the water. But tears cannot kill a thing, no matter how someone might wish it was so. Thus they stayed in the water and stewed in the heat and shivered in the cold, until travelers came to their great oasis. A heart that has loved may love again, no matter how bitter the love became and each of the stars fell in love with one of the travelers. They rose up out of the water and this time their love was returned, for nothing is as beautiful as a star and few loves more constant. And of their parings came the first fourteen clans of the Punisere from which all Puniseri are descended. And even now, if they look up at the stars in search of kin, they find their oldest relative still alive and loving in Orwolael and if the Puniseri are humble and ask the right questions, Orwolael will chivy its own children, the cousins of the desert, out among the stars to move to show a greater and wiser view of the world.

Through Orwolael's wisdom and its children's loyalty the Puniseri were taught and are still taught about their own loyalties and lives. They were taught how to breed the great lizards that became the dinosaurs. And, most precious of all, they were taught to breed the king of lizards, brave and loyal, clever and obedient. From Orwolael came the secret of the T-Rex and the riding of worthy mounts. And still the T-Rex's of the desert are most loved and best bred.

Most Puniseri are content to keep their ways and their legends in the heat of the many colors of sand. But sometimes, someone will look up and the stars have another message: that they must leave the desert and seek something in colder climes.

Unlike the rest of the Known World, Puniseri do not distinguish between the Eastern Wastes and the Punisere, it's simply another of the many colors of the desert and all have kin on both sides of the bore hole.

A Tri Poke who grew up in Punisere is someone who grew up in a very similar lifestyle to the one they now lead. They're easily adaptable to many situations and used to roughing it. Most of their problems will come from learning how to conform to all the expectations the rest of the world will have for them.

#tri poke #Punisere

[giftofshewbread]

The Glorified New You!

The heart of the Gospel is that Jesus died on the cross for our sins, was buried, and rose from the dead on the third day (see 1 Corinthians 15:1-6). My point is that Jesus’ appearing to take us home to heaven is the future tense of the Gospel; it’s the beginning of the eternal life that Jesus promises to those who put their faith in Him (see 1 Thessalonians 1:9-10; 4:13-18).

I love the words of 1 John 3:1-3 regarding our hope of Jesus’ soon appearing and our new glorified bodies that will be like that of our Savior:

“See what kind of love the Father has given to us, that we should be called children of God; and so we are. The reason why the world does not know us is that it did not know him. Beloved, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet appeared; but we know that when he appears we shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is. And everyone who thus hopes in him purifies himself as he is pure.”

These verses start with the Father’s great love for us and end with the motivation to live like Jesus now because someday, someday soon, we will be like Him possessing glorified, imperishable bodies that will never die, get sick, wear out, or grow old.

Jonathan Brentner

#Must be Born Again to Enter the Kingdom of Heaven #JESUS alone can only save you/I/us #NOBODY ELSE SAVES BUT JESUS! #Corrupt faiths like Islam #Catholicism #Hinduism #Buddhism #Mormanism #All the many false Denominations using Christ #in name only #Social Christians #Satanists #Atheists #Agnostics #Any faith other then the TRUE Following/Teachings of JESUS Christ #ARE UTTERLY FALSE AND ONLY LEAD TO HELL! #GOD is a Righteous GOD #HE will NOT Allow Sin or False religions/faiths into Heaven Period ! #YOU MUST BE A BORN AGAIN CHRISTIAN TO ENTER THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN.

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst 

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

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[dawnmon]

Oceanic Melody, Flame-swept Elegy, Uncertain Symphony

(This is a pretty old fic based on a dream by @rozugold so! Here you go rozu, i hope you enjoy!)

2k words ish

—-————————

Tommy woke to dazzling light.

Woke to blurred, churning blue.

Woke to find himself unable to breathe, water crushing all the remaining air from his lungs.

He thrashed his limbs, frantically kicking to the surface. He should’ve known this would happen, it always did; every day, every morning, and every time further out from the beach. Further from “home”, and further towards-

The sight of the beach almost made him swallow his mouthful of sea.

Charred. Ruined. Smoking.

All the eye could see; the fields and fields of grass, the formerly sparkling sands, Logstedshire. All of it, completely and utterly ravaged.

Being in the ocean had saved him from whatever firestorm had swept the lands.

His body, numb and lethargic from lack of… everything, couldn’t resist the salted ocean waves that shoved him towards land.

Stumbling onto the beach, the lingering wisps of smoke in the air made every breath burn, clinging to his throat and leaving reluctantly.

What had caused this? It looked like fire, but it also seemed… supernatural. No speck of ash remained, just blackened earth. And no normal fire could scorch all of the island like this.

He tried turning to look at what remained of Logsted. The stripped logs, the crates that Ghostbur had stuffed with blue, the Prime Log and Prime Bell that he conjured up in his mind, none of it remained. Only scatterings of melted gold where the bell once had rested, and rubble and stone and glass collapsed in what had once been his abode.

Tnret and the Christmas tree were nowhere to be seen, nor was the village in the distance. The Nether portals both were overturned and unusable, shattered into bits. The empty beach party decorations were gone, no trace remaining against the jagged seaside.

And as the reality set in, as the smoke spun his thoughts and his head and his world around, as his legs were seized with panic and fear crawled cold up his spine, he shouted out of a hoarse and pained throat;

“D-Dream?”

“Dream, you’re here, right? You-You’ve pranked me, aha, g-good job! It all feels… it feels really real….”

There were no signs of him. The corpse of the world lay still and unmoving.

“Where-Where are you?”

No green remained in this aftermath.

“Please, you- you’re-“

His arms pressed into his own torso, hugging and grasping in order to pretend someone was there.

All the mob fights, all the close calls, the crushing loneliness, all the time, Dream had been there. But Dream could not revive the wasted lands, nor clear the choking, darkened skies.

Staggering, his instincts took him towards the little that remained of Logsted. He needed… to survive….

…Did he?

The thought alone froze his momentum, gravity sending him knees first into the pebbled path leading to his ruined abode.

Dream might be dead. No one at home wanted anything to do with him. Any progress he had made, into a new special place, a new home, a new life, was gone.

Absolutely nothing was left besides him and him alone.

So what to live for?

Himself?

What was he without-

A flash of metal below him caught his gaze.

The words Your Tubbo, and a needle still pointing resolutely across the ocean.

Tubbo.

…If he could keep one thing, one thing with him, it would be the memories of what once had been truth.

So, crawling forward, as the strength to stand was waning by every heartbeat, he dug up the false floor that had survived among the rubble.

Swinging his legs into the hole, he dropped down. His rebel hideaway had remained intact.

Chests stood in stasis, despite Hell above.

Among them, a single chest of photos, every one a remnant of a time long gone.

Tommy climbed inside, the smell of paper and ink a welcome comfort against what had followed him inside his final tomb.

And, clutching the compass, dizziness gave way to rest.

He dreams of smoke, of a van, of bubbling orange and darkness and heat, of a blackstone room where an ally turned traitor, of explosions and explosions and the smell of sulfur, of a room with scrawled writing on the walls, and of his spiraling thoughts whenever he sees his only friend - only enemy? - in his mind’s eye.

He dreamed of this,

of standing atop an obsidian wall,

of falling,

And of ocean-blue eyes, ones he knew well, turned away from his own.

His eyes open to ocean-blue irises.

———————————

Tubbo had feared of waking up one day to see everyone gone.

Echoes of dictator, of tyrant, of cruel had whispered across New L’manberg’s streets. He, of course, pretended not to notice; his duties required him to continue on and ignore such phrases. His cabinet was stressed enough with the upcoming Army plans to worry about rumors.

But ignoring it all didn’t prevent the nagging thought of what if.

What if he, too, was left an alone president in an abandoned L’manberg, alone in a drug van, alone as everyone watches you self-destruct due to your own self-neglect?

Of all scenarios he had run in his imagination, he never thought it would be this literal.

Waking up to dazzling light,

To expansive, churning blue,

To fresh ocean air and the cry of Guardians below.

And he dove into the ocean, as always, trident piercing the air and waves as he flew, soaked and reveling in the mundane, refreshing journey.

The revelry did not last.

As a horizon, laced with smoke, spread out before him.

The scent of fresh ocean and salted waves gave way to an unpleasant, choking, burning stench.

Tubbo’s grip loosened in his shock, trident spiraling out of his hands as he tumbled onto solid scorched ground.

Gasping, gagging on the stark dichotomy, he brought his tie up to his mouth to filter the air, in vain.

Where New L’manberg should be, laid above a water-filled crater, above the tragedy of the past, was a pitch-black pool; blackened as the soil, as the air, as everything he had once called his own.

He stumbled forward, grabbing his trident and slipping into a natural defensive stance, as Sam had shown him, just in case. Was it Technoblade? Had he done this? Again?

Surely not. Surely. Surely, he would’ve made sure Tubbo had been there; he had been one for dramatics. He wouldn’t let the target of his disdain, what New L’manberg represented, free of this.

Had it been Dream? No, they’d been on friendly terms. The others of the Dream SMP? No one had been particularly antagonistic….

His brain racked through his memories, body rigid, nails digging into the trident; Punz, Sapnap, Eret, Phil, Ghostbur? T-

A new fit of coughing spared him the thought.

He forced his eyes to take in the remains.

Which was Nothing. Nothing remained. Nothing that mattered, no one that mattered. Scatterings of stone and iron and miscellaneous builds; all lifeless, dead, relics void of meaning, devoid of spirit.

His body seemed to move of its own accord, trident trailing behind him as numbness dulled his combative reflexes. Knees dug into the sharp stones lining the dark pool, and he stared down at the vague outline of a boy, soon 17, wearing clothes that fit something grander than he could ever uphold.

Well. It seemed he wouldn’t be upholding anything anymore. Not even the false facsimile he had called L’manberg.

Eyes reflecting the water below, his trident slipped from its position on his lap, tumbling into the depths. Arm absentmindedly following, the ground below shifted, and he caught himself on the shards of rock.

The pain snapped his mind out of the grey fog, fingers instinctively moving up to entwine itself in the steel-beaded string hanging out of his breast pocket.

Wait….

Pulling out the compass that lay inside, he watched it spin intently, slowly.

Watching the words, Your Tommy, and a needle pointing stubbornly across the ocean.

Tommy.

…If he could find one thing, one thing still alive, it would be the person from a time when the world was simple. When the world was not whole, but was breathing.

So, he left the pitch-black poolside, turning to the ocean.

The boat floating along the surface, in his line of sight, ignited a life inside him that he had lost, on an earlier December day.

He picked up the oars, and followed the compass home.

———————————

Tommy blinked, eyes focusing, head aching, lungs longing to breathe and cry and ask and-

“Tommy?” a quiet, disbelieving voice asked.

“...Tubbo?” a strained, hoarse one returned.

He sat up abruptly, the other boy quickly stepping back to give him space to look at his new surroundings.

It was an underground bunker, of sorts; an iron door adorned one wall, an Enderchest sat in the corner, and a few chests lined a spare, stoney wall. Thankfully, not hot, not suffocating, but the air still felt stale and unmoving.

“I... uh….” Tubbo began, quickly closing his mouth and staring anywhere else. A dry swallow, and then, as if his life were on the line, he blurted, “...The compass. It helped me find you. Luckily your room had chests; Without much wood, any wood, actually, all the trees are gone and all, we can’t get more right… right now….” He looked five seconds from pushing the button that opened the door and bolting.

Was he still dreaming? Was he hallucinating again? Was this Tubbo real?

Unclenching his hand from its vice grip around his compass, he stared at the needle as he massaged the indent; the needle now pointing straight at the mirrored one in Tubbo’s grasp.

His head was spinning, from smoke and the restless sleep, from the new environment. He quickly slipped the compass back around his neck, taking in everything.

“You….”

What was he to say?

An uncomfortable silence began to settle. Before it could take hold, he let the words out;

“Why did you save me?”

He wished he could grab them back.

Tubbo blinked suddenly. “I mean… I figured… I guess-”

“Is it because I’m the only person left?!” The words hurt to utter; he chalked it up to the smoke that squeezed his throat and lurked in his gut.

“Wh- no-“ Panic - and worse, concern - flashed across Tubbo’s face.

“It took- all this for you to come and-“ Tommy staggered out of the bed. “Come and save me? It took a- whatever this is, whatever happened, for you to come and finally help me out? Because you’d be there, alone?”

“I came because-“ he started.

The fear grabbed at him tighter. “You suddenly decided to care-“

“I’m sorry.”

Air tasting of charcoal filled Tommy’s lungs.

“Sorry isn’t going to bring… anything back.”

“I know.”

The life Tommy remembered in Tubbo’s face, from the photo he had lain on, didn’t show on this Tubbo. The Tubbo in front of him, with little hope, and less anger.

“I… should’ve kept you in L’manberg. It… I regretted it every day. Every single….” Pain rimmed his eyes and hemmed his jaws closed.

Tommy sat back on the bed, staring at the compass needle, fixed in iron, unchanging. “Why didn’t you come?”

“I was afraid you would hate me.”

“…” Had he? His mind still swum in a fog; memories and thoughts clashing and mingling. He hadn’t come, not once; hallucinations were the only Tubbo he could recall in Logsted. Even his party remained at two attendees. But… had he truly hated Tubbo?

His thoughts spun.

Where was-

“I…know words are cheap, so….” Tubbo turned to his Enderchest, going through the miscellaneous tools inside. He then, carefully, lifted something from within. Tommy focused intently.

Tommy‘s heart skipped a few agonizing beats.

Mellohi.

“You… you gave this to me because you trusted me, right? Well… let this be an apology. I betrayed that trust, and you… suffered for my own lack of authority.”

Tubbo extended his hand, held gently around the disc. Face sorrowful. Expression hollow.

“Here.”

Tommy’s vision blurred and focused. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

…How was it meant to go? Had he been condemned to waste away in Logstedshire forever? Had he intended to resist Dream? Had he wanted to run away and never look back?

All he had wanted was an end to the loneliness.

He’d wanted his Tubbo. And now he was all that remained.

Tommy shook his head, standing up. He moved, over to the Enderchest.

Tubbo lowered his arm, still and waiting.

He pulled out a jukebox.

Tubbo’s eyes opened, wider.

“Mellohi is ours, Tubbo. We listened to it together at the start… so let’s listen to it at the end.”

“…Alright.”

Music filled the still air.

They sat on the stone floor; Tommy, eyes closed and breathing deeply as he took in the melody. Tubbo, staring down and clutching a compass, pointed home.

Tommy opened his eyes, meeting Tubbo’s; sky grey meeting ocean blue.

Their symphony may be gone.

But this would not be their elegy.

#rozu gold #fanfiction

[royalydamned]

SOAKED

|Mycroft Holmes x Reader|

|AN|: I haven't written one shot, let alone something x reader in like? two years? maybe? Reader is written as non-specified gender and is only referred to as "you" , so no pronouns for reader. My love for Mycroft suddenly hit me like a truck after years so I had to contribute.

Summary: Bit of rain, whole lot of feelings, and one love confession. Maybe storms aren't that bad, if they show you that you are worthy of love after all. In Mycroft's case for sure.

Mycroft sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes. The clock on the wall in front of him showed early afternoon, yet cold and darkness spread outside of his windows as the sun hid behind heavy clouds early in the morning. Peaceful but gloomy day. Still, the heavy pounding of rain against the glass of widows and road, as well as the rustle of the wet trees in the wind was oddly peaceful and comforting.  He had a hard day of work behind him, and another evening of more work ahead, just another weak attempt to distract himself from a foul mood he was put in because of the complications that came with the weather. 

Important plans, well, to him at least. He was supposed to get to see you.

A busy man he was, that wasn't even up for a question. His schedule tightly packed with meetings, paperwork and more than occasional fixing of his brother's mess, or just simply preventing it, it left a very little time for pleasant distractions such as a quiet time spend with delicious cup of tea and your sweet smile. Today was not the day for distraction it seemed, certainly not as big as your company, that left him flustered and distracted hours after you said your goodbyes. 

Your meetings were always a special occasion, even if they were short, brief and unfrequent because of how far you lived, Mycroft always cherished them for weeks following, replaying your lovely laugh and almost sparkling eyes in his head as he woke up and texted you a good morning message, or as he layed down to sleep and wished you sweet dreams. 

He might have...cared. For you, your happiness, your well being. Much more than he would ever admit, to others that is. Inside his own mind, he knew far too well how utterly enamored he was with you. 

The eldest Holmes wasn't the one to act, God forbid act upon his feelings. He could watch you, with crushing ache in his heart and deep longing as you always talked about your newest acquaintanceship, secretly wishing you held the same sentiments as he did. 

You never seemed to have a shortage of suitors at your heels, one better looking that the other, with charming smiles and magnetic personas. Likeable, social, just as you deserved. While he--, well, there was no need to ruin his day further with self-describtions. He knew very well how others percieved him and how he looked. Sherlock never failed to remind him if he occasionally forgot. 

Mycroft Holmes was aware, that he was nothing anyone would have ever wanted. 

The relationship the two of you had now was more than he could ask for, in all honesty. Time spent together, secrets shared in quiet moments and deep trust you held, it was enough. It was all he needed, if he still could watch over you. 

Outside a thunder struck, pulling him from the spiral of thoughts that he always seemed to fall into in the loneliest moments. With a deep sigh he stood up from behind his desk, eyes burning from how long he stared into the bright computer screen, and made his way downstairs into the liquor cabinet. He deserved a small break. 

His house was dark, almost like a nighttime had fallen outside, but he didn't bother turning on the lights, instead he carefully climbed down the stairs, gripping the wooden railing at the side for security. By the end of the staircase, he deeply regretted his foolish decision, but before he could make even one step towards the nearest lightswitch, a doorbell stopped him. 

Confused, he opened the door, only praying not to see his younger brother and his babysitter standing outside, as he had no intention nor the mood to put up with his obnoxious antics this afternoon, but instead his eyes landed on you. 

A soft surpised gasp escaped his mouth as he saw you on his doorstep, shivering with cold, your clothes completely soaked, excess droplets falling on your face and the tiles outside, and arms cluthing yourself for the tiniest bit of warmth. 

"|Y/N|?" He asked in quiet disbelief, almost as if he thought  he was imagining you. 

"We agreed to meet after too long, like hell a bit of rain would stop me," you replied with a victorious grin, lips almost purple from the cold and your whole body visibly trembling. 

"Foolish," he muttered pulling you gently inside from the atrocious weather. "You are completely soaked."

"You apparently have that effect on me," you smirked, the witty remark escaping your lips without control, and Mycroft was glad you couldn't see the embarrassed shade his cheeks caught. "No, but really, I walked most of the time. You know the tube is too far away from your place, and I didn't have enough money for a cab, I figured it isn't going to be that bad."

"It was." 

"It was," you agreed, rubbing your hands together in quick motions, trying to gain the feeling back into your fingers. 

"You should change or else you'll catch cold, come." You let him grab your hand, his skin pleasantly warm against your cold numbed one. He tried to think about anything else rather than the feeling of your connected hands, there were more important things now than such minor distractions. The image of you walking outside in the storm, just to see him. Just to be with him. It sent the most pleasant feeling into his stomach, the idea that maybe, he was almost as important to you as you were to him. But that was nothing but a wishful thinking, a desire of a naive man, and that is not who Mycroft was. There was no need for false hopes and embellished reality. 

He lead you into his bedroom, the idea of what it would normally mean coloring his cheeks, but he ignored those intrusive thoughts, focusing on helping you warm up in any way possible. "You have to change into dry clothes. Mine should be sufficient for now." 

"Alright." Came your voice from behind him, and he turned around to see your topless form. 

His breath hitched as he quickly dropped his gaze onto the floor, trying to keep the image he saw out of his mind, out of respect for you. No matter how badly he wished to remember it. Your skin glistening with water, body hiding under the clothes he strangely found himself craving, too primal and illogical for himself to admit. It was too hard keeping his head clear, with the sight from a few seconds ago burned into his brain, unable to ignore, unablet to forget, twisting his inside it certain ways he rarely felt before. 

"I will wait outside," he stated finally, pushing the neatly folded pile of clothing towards you without looking up in the slightest, and left the room. 

 When he shut the door after him, he finally felt like he could breathe easily again. Leaning against the doorframe, replaying the moment again and again, against his own better judgemnet, without the willpower to stop himself, and gulped heavily, trying to get rid of the strange sensation inside of him. 

It was like his feelings weren't enough. Like the fact that he, after all, wasn't too different to others, as he was so deeply affected by the helpless emotions of love and how deeply he was hurting with every moment without you. So depended on your presence bringing him joy. Now he steeped so low as physical attraction, pure desire of your touch and your body. He would mock himself if he could, you were just too much. 

A soft click of the doorknob caught his attention, and stayed almost staring, asking himself over and over again, why does he love the sight of you in his clothes so much. 

You hugged yourself tightly, still trembling significanty, but now at least rid of the wet clothes, and smiled up at him, with warmth only you could muster at such a moment. "This is much better, thank you. Sorry for such complications." 

"Nonsense," he huffed almost annoyed, like your health would ever be a complication. To him. Ridiculous. "Come, I think fire and a nice cup of tea will warm you up." Placing a hand on the small of your back, he led you back downstairs, where the big fireplace was. The close proximity the gesture put you in flustered you both, but Mycroft didn't want to let go. And neither did you. 

You turned to him, looking up into his face, smiling mischieviously when he caught your eyes. "Don't you have anything stronger?" 

The corner of his mouth twitched upwards, strongly liking your idea. "Your wish is my command."

Downstairs, he found the thickest blanket he had, tightly wrapping it around your shoulders, and you snuggled into its comfort immediately, watching him struggle to start a fire. 

"I suppose you aren't the one for camping," you mused with a small smile, giggling shortly at his grimace. 

"My, how could you possibly deduce that?" A tiny flame sparked inside, dacing across the thick logs of wood before disappearing under them, and growing rapidly. Mycroft stood up from the ground, dusting off the dirt and ashes from his hands and clothes, and looked rather proudly at his work. 

"I guess I was wrong. You are full of surprises, Mr. Holmes." A warm light from the fireplace illuminated your features, the growing flames sparkling in your eyes, and Mycroft stayed just to watch. He didn't believe in perfection, that concept was unachievable and he never believed in such terms, but as he watched you in this  moment, hair frizzy as they were drying from the water, the messy strands falling into your face, and just  then as he watched the orange light color your skin with small smile on your lips , he though you were the only one that came close. 

"Well," he inhaled sharply, pulling himself from the love-sick trance, and smiled back at you, the expression coming off more forced than it really was. "I shall go and fetch us something to drink." 

Later he came back with two short glasses and bottle of a still unopened liquor bottle, sealed with silver paper and a stamp of the highest quality, almost unnoticable smile playing on his lips as he made his way back to you, where you set cross-legged on the little carpet right in front of the fire. He copied your position, awkardly folding his legs, your knees almost touching, and placed the two glasses into the space between you. 

"I'm just," he started unsurely, pouring each of you a glass with impressive precision in the amount, and looked at you again, almost shyly. "I'm very glad we got to spend our evening together after all."

"I'm very glad as well Mycroft," you answered, a fond look in your eyes as you looked at the man in front of you and raised your glass in a silent gesture. He repeated the motion, nodding his head courtly your direction, and took a small sip, watching you in astonishment as you drank it all at once. "Getting warmer already," you laughed, watching the smile on his face widen at your comment and poured you another glass. 

You set together for what felt like hours, and maybe it was, in comfortable silence by the melody of the cracking fire beside you, the bottle almost fully drank and the personal space between you long gone. Your feet were tangled together in the middle, knees pressed against each other, both supporting your heads on your hands as you talked, with blissful smiles and faces almost too close. 

Mycroft adjusted his posture, resting his chin on his connected hands supported on his thighs as he watched you attentively, noticing and drinking in every detail of your face, your voice your tipsy mannerisms. He could never tear his gaze off you, you were captivating, like a mysterious painting hanging in the gallery, attracting everyone to look, to try to figure it out, and know everything about it. But he knew everything about you, and still he wanted to learn even more. Secrets you never told him, things he simply couldn't just see. Every morning he wanted to see your face, to give him the strenght to go through it, and ever evening he wanted to come back to it, because you felt like home. And Mycroft hated himself for being so melodramatic. This wasn't him, all these thoughts, all these emotions, they were stronger than his healthy judgement, which was already clouded by alcohol. 

 "Wasn't your partner worried, just going outside in such a storm?" You huffed out a breath, both amusement and annoyance mixing in that display of emotion, and Mycroft quite couldn't place, what it meant. 

"We broke up several days ago."

"I am very sorry to hear that," he said genuinely, even though inside he felt selfish joy that he won't have to hear about yet  another perfect match for you, another reminder of everything he wasn't. And could never be. Nothing you wanted nor needed. 

"Don't be, nobody I met yet was really for me," you mumbled, dropping your eyes into the empty glass in your hands, brows furrowed in deep thought.

"Why is that?" He took the last sip from his glass and carefully set it on the coffee table by his side, his full attention at you again. 

"When you meet so many people, good-looking, charming and kind people, but none of them fits you, none of them is right because you set impossible standard, almost unachievable by most people." You set aside your own glass, shifting even closer to him, hearing how he took in a sharp breath, hesitantly straightening his back. 

"That must happen when one deserves perfection," he answered looking longinly into your eyes, unable to look away. You were truly hypnotising, the only thing he could look at hours without  a break and never get tired. The only person he grew to love so deeply. Truly one of a kind. 

"Oh, not perfection, heavens no," you laghed, throwing your head back a little at that, and he still couldn't look away. Why was it so amusing, someone as perfect, as flawless, deserved nothing less than the same. "The thing being, that it's too far from perfection, and in a world where people desire nothing more than to eliminate their flaws, something perfectly imperfect is unachievable."

You leaned closer to him, licking your lips, already pink and sweet again, without realizing, and he almost lost his control. Swallowing heavily, he forced himself to look back into your eyes, trying to forget about the questions appearing in his mind. How would your lips possibly taste? How would it feel having you so close? Heating you up with his own body, blanket too long forgotten?

He couldn't think that way. He had to collect himself, but he didn't know how. Subconciously, he leaned in as well, the gap between your faces just inches apart, your breaths almost shared in one, and it felt like he was dreaming. If that was the truth, he never wanted to wake up.  

"They all lacked just one thing though," you whispered, placing your hand on his leg for support, making Mycroft to freeze completely, too disturbed by the contact and the overwhelming heat it sent through his body to think about anything else. 

"That being?" he forced himself to say, his throat tight and voice quiet, almost as if he had lost his breath. 

"They just weren't...you." A simple statement, a plain sentence bearing more meaning than most conversations he had been part of. His gaze abruptly shot back up, cathing he own almost instantly, but no words made their way out. He couldn't talk nor move, shock too obvious on his features, that even a child would know. 

His hands moved on his own, the other times brilliant brain, his biggest pride during his whole life now shut off by a few simple words, his body moving without a single though. Your cheek was warm already, burning hot under his skin as he gently caressed it, moving out a fallen strand from your face, tracing your cheekbone with his thumb like you were the most fragile thing in the world. 

"May I kiss you?" you breathed out, your eyes looking up at him, sparkling with emotion he thought he would never see in them, and he nodded, fulfilling himself the one wish that seemed too impossible for a realistic man to hold. 

Your lips met in the middle, slow and hesitant as you both silently prayed you wouldn't wake u in the middle of the nigh and find out it was yet another dream. 

He sighed deeply into the kiss as you moved to sit in his lap and deepened the kiss, pressing your lips against his more roughly, more needily, hands carefully placed on his neck and your whole body so deliciously pressed against his. So hot and soft, an opposite picture to your arrival, sinding the most pleasant shivers through his whole body with every slight movement in his arms. Mycroft's arms ended up wrapped around your waist, tightly cluthing your body to his like he was afraid you would leave. He couldn't let go. He never wanted to let go. 

After a short while, seconds, maybe minutes, he didn't know, the best moments of his life, you pulled away, only slightly to cath your breath, and rested your own forehead against his. He could smell the rain in your hair and your unique scent all around him, and he wanted to remember it all. Every single detail, to replay it, to dream it. To live it. 

"I love you," he said quietly, too long of a silence from his last words, and finally gather up the courage to open his eyes and look at you again. At your glowing eyes and wide smile, at your messy hair and body tangled in his blanket, in his own gaze, you were the perfect everyone seeked. 

"I love you too Mycroft."

And he never wanted to hear a sentence repeated so much as in that moment. Fortunately, you would never get tired of saying it. 

#mycroft holmes #mycroft holmes x reader #sherlock #sherlock bbc

[takerfoxx]

So I was thinking about Wonder Egg Priority the other day while delivering pizzas when I had something of an epiphany.

WEP is, in many way, sort of the anti-Madoka Magica.

Now, by that I don’t mean it’s intended as an answer, attack, response, or counter to PMMM. It’s obviously a show doing its own thing, and being compared to PMMM probably wasn’t on the creator’s mind. Also, I don’t mean it’s a reconstruction intended to rebuild the genre that PMMM broke apart, much like Gurren Laagan did to the Giant Mecha genre after Evangelion happened. Rather, it feels like, whether intentional or not, to be Madoka Magica in reverse.

Let me explain.

I’ve already gone into detail how PMMM became the hand grenade to the Magical Girl Warrior genre that it was, how carefully it was crafted to utterly deconstruct the genre and did it so well that it was completely changed. Just look at all those dark magical girl shows, comics, and whatnot that sprung up in its wake, all trying to recapture that same magic, and practically all failing. And while it wasn’t the death of cute and optimistic magical girl shows, the genre as a whole was definitely altered by PMMM, taking themes and ideas originally brought up by Utena and Bokurano and building upon them to create a surgical knife that dissected the whole genre and changed it forever.

And one of the methods it used was to show that each and every one of the main character was left in a much worse state than she was in thanks to the contracts.

Think about it. Each of the five girls was basically ruined by becoming a magical girl. Sayaka fell into despair and was destroyed. Madoka straight up died in the original timeline and ended up erasing herself. Mami spiraled into loneliness and depression until she was killed. Kyoko lost her whole family because of her contract, became a heartless nihilist, and when she tried to redeem herself, she realized the futility of it and decided to go down in a blaze of glory. Homura was cursed to relive the same trauma over and over again and eventually lost the person she was fighting for. Even the ones already in a bad place ended up worse off because of it. Hell, Mami only managed to delay her own death by a couple years, and in the end, her end was even more gruesome. 

And that was the point. The wish/contract system is intended to chew these girls up as fodder and just move onto the next one. Just by making a wish you’ve doomed yourself, and there is no escaping your fate. At best you can delay it, and so few can. The best Madoka could do with her universe altering wish was make the girls’ ends a little less cruel. And the movie broke them down even more.

But WEP seems to take the opposite route. Here, when each of our mains are introduced, they’re already at their worse, all four of them traumatized by losing someone close to them while dealing with a multitude of other issues. Ai was bullied heavily due to her appearance, found one friend that could understand, let that friend down, and was deeply wounded when that friend killed herself, leading to Ai becoming a hikikomori. Rika grew up with an absent father and a neglectful mother, got pushed into the toxic idol world way too young, drove off the one person that cared about her and eventually caused her death, leading to her to develop her weirdly cheerful/abrasive personality and self harm as a means of coping with the guilt. Momoe was devastated when her rejection of her friend’s advances led to her friend’s suicide (as far as she knows, anyway), leading to her having a major complex about her appearance and gender identity as a result. And Neiru...well, her situation is really weird and kinda sci-fi, but being a genius test tube baby who was nearly murdered by her sister and left with horrific scars can’t be fun. 

Point is, each of these girls is already broken inside when they’re introduced, and the whole wonder egg thing means they spend their nights fighting violent battles against horrific monsters and suffering a lot of pain and even more trauma, and unlike PMMM, this isn’t shown as being fun or cool at all. There is no false sense of security. You’re shown what a brutal affair it is up front, and the show seems to go out of its way to throw a whole bunch of serious and uncomfortable topics right into the spotlight, from bullying to suicide to sexual abuse to self harm to eating disorders to parental neglect, and the list goes on. It’s a very hard show to watch sometimes because of it.

And yet, unlike the PMMM girls, who only grew worse the longer they were in the system, the WEP girls only seem to be getting more emotionally and mentally healthy from the battles they fight. Protecting the Wonder Eggs, as violent as it might get, seems to be acting as a form of therapy for them, a way for them to confront their pent-up emotions and let them out. And the friendship they’ve built together, while sometimes messy and contentious, is shown to be incredibly healthy for them. They’re basically each other’s support group, and their get-togethers often become group therapy sessions as they confide their true feelings about their lives with each other and discuss their issues out in the open. And as a result, we see the bond that they’ve formed help them heal. Ai becomes more confident, more outgoing, and more brave, to the point that she’s not afraid to go to school anymore. Rika comes to terms with her own guilt and feelings of neglect and realizes that she doesn’t have to risk her life if she doesn’t want to, and even starts to forgive her mother. Momoe starts to come to terms with her feelings of discomfort around her femininity. Even Neiru has started to learn to open up to others and act like a kid for once. All four of them are better off for having met the others, and for fighting to restore their lost ones. 

Now granted, the show’s not over yet, and I’m sure there’s a twist on the way, especially with what we’re learning about the Accas and Neiru’s secretary. But even so, the inverse mirror images the two shows seem to make of each other was very interesting to me.

#wonder egg priority #puella magi madoka magica #ai ohto #rika kawai #momoe sawaki #neiru aonuma

[aliensunflower-fics]

Marinette’s Big Fall: An angsty Prompt

[ I have had not one. Not two. But THREE anonymous asks for some Miraculous ladybug angst with a pinch of salt SO here you go. Also because people keep asking me if they can make fics from my prompts I will just put here that YES you can I will love you if you do, please just tag me so I can squeal. I always love fan-art and I always love fics based off my ideas just go nuts guys. ]

If you asked the students of Bustier’s classroom what happened that sunny tuesday at 1:36pm they would all tell you it was an accident. None of them had meant for anything to happen and none of them had so much as laid a finger on the dark haired girl. It was just an accident that was all, but still their faces would lose blood and they would shake as they remembered the sight of Marinette Dupain-Cheng laying still as a stone at the bottom of the stairs. If you asked them to start at the beginning they would take a shaky breath and start their tale at the first warning bell of the school day, before Marinette had arrived and when Lila Rossi did.

The italian had for months been telling them of Marinette’s misdeeds and though many were proven to be false it seemed like not a day went by where Lila didn’t have some new to say about the bakers daughter. That days newest tale was about how Marinette had ruined Lila’s photoshoot at the park with Adrien. It was suppose to be a romantic shoot for valentines day and Marinette had arrived at the park where it was taking place with little Manon. Lila claimed that Marinette bribed the child into pushing Lila into the fountain during the shoot thus ruining the whole thing and making her look bad in front of the employer. Now hearing this story the students of Bustier’s class felt mixed Marinette was prone to fits of jealousy but would she really bring a child into it? Some were angry at Marinette for her repeated felonies some were unsure and one other a certain Adrien Agreste still had no idea what everyone meant about Marinette being jealous and while he knew that Lila had ended up in the water and that it was Manon who did it... He also knew for a fact that Marinette was in no way involved.

The debate over Marinette’s innocence would last until the young designer arrived then the class would fall into steely silence all fuming and grumbling trying to justify the Marinette they knew and loved with the jealous green eyed monster Lila suffered under. As they day wore on Alya always the seeker of truth began badgering Marinette trying to get to the bottom of the whole affair, and while Marinette admitted to being at the park and admitted to babysitting Manon and yes she even confirmed that Lila wound up in the fountain she claimed no responsibility arguing that little Manon had just wanted a hug from Adrien and had accidentally shoved the italian. This information spurred only new arguments though they happened without Marinette’s knowledge in back and forth messages when the teachers back was turned. Lila meanwhile continued to weave her web sending her own messages to the class with new accusations and ‘evidence’ something had to give as the tensions rose and at exactly 1:00 when Mme. Bustier stepped out something did give indeed.

No one really remembers the argument only who was leading it. Alya was a good person a bit too trusting and maybe a bit too gullible and brash but she always protected the weak and thats why Marinette loved her. The problem was right now Alya thought the one who needed that protection was one Lila Rossi. Marinette did her best to diffuse the situation she argued that it was a child’s mistake that Lila should let it go. Alya argued that Marinette always had issues with jealousy and that she needed to fess up and apologize. Marinette would no apologize for something she didn’t do and so the argument continued, classmates joined in things got more and more heated in the spur of the moment with everyone yelling and Lila sobbing Alya snapped and said two things she never should have. One she told Marinette they were no longer friends unless Marinette stopped being jealous. And two, she revealed just why Marinette was ‘jealous’ her crush on Adrien Agreste. The moment the words left her mouth Alya was hit with regret, the moment she saw embarrassment in her friends face and tears hot and fresh welling in her eyes she was hit with shame. No one spoke as the bakers daughter let out a choked sob but suprising them all it wasn’t an accusation of anger at Alya for outing her secret that left the dark haired girls lips it was a quiet shaky and broken:

“W-Were not friends a-anymore?” Followed by yet another choked and heartbroken sob.

Before Alya or anyone could answer the girl bolted for the door shaking with sobs. Everyone stood shocked still for a moment before Adrien bolted up and rushed after the girl the rest of the class followed. But they never reached Marinette in time. In her distressed state the pigtailed girl had tried to make a break for home but she was clumsy and clumsier still when upset so when she rushed down the stair she tripped and everyone could only watch in silent horror as the bakers daughter only managed to let out a gasp before her body slammed into the hard concrete. When the students of Bustier’s recalled everything later they would note with some shock that it was Chloe who moved first yelling out Marinette’s name, not her last name no, just her name as she rushed down the stairs and to the dark haired girls side. She noted the young girl wasn’t responding and quickly snapped for Sabrina to phone an ambulance while she continued to monitor Marinette. No one else would move, Alya would cry silently and in horror as Chloe called out to Marinette and checked her pulse, Nino would clutch his hat and stare mouth agape as Marinette lay like a lifeless corpse, Adrien Agreste would fall to his knees at the top of that stairs his eyes like saucers as he tried to comprehend what had happened. And Lila Rossi? She would feel every bit of blood in her body turn into ice as guilt gripped onto her and told her that this, all of this was because of HER.

Everything that happened next was a blur, the ambulance arrived Marinette was driven away with Chloe of all people. The police arrived, Bustier and Damocles felt there sweat turn cold as they were questioned, the other students of the school would stand around murmuring and pointing at the Akuma Class Rose would hear the kinder people ask what happened in hushed tone, Juleka would hear the crueler people say that the Akuma class had tried to kill the one person they couldn’t akumatize. Soon enough parents arrived and dragged away their children Kim and Alix would notice the small patch of blood on the concrete where Marinette landed, they would later puke thinking about it, but they told no one of what they had seen.

Meanwhile on the way to the hospital Tikki was in a panic, her dearest chosen her most precious and rare creation soul was BROKEN so many bones and bits of her body were mangled beyond repair... Well beyond NORMAL repair but Tikki was a god, a sentimental god at that and she would not let heaven or hell get in the way of her helping Marinette survive no matter the cause. And so sitting silently, hidden in the girls hair out of sight of the paramedic and Chloe who was telling them all she knew of Marinette’s medical background Tikki used her magic to mend all she could, she would make sure that her sweet precious Marinette would be alright but while she mended the broken body Tikki knew that there would be a price to pay. Magic always came with a price. In the past when she’d used her magic to heal holders this way some had lost their eyesight, others their voices, some would lose a limb, Tikki had no idea that cost Marinette would pay but she knew whatever it was her precious little bug would be alright.

And she was. The doctors were shocked to find that while Marinette had a broken leg and two broken ribs, some deep cuts that would never fully heal, and some awful bruising that would leave the girl sore for who knows how long she was in fact just fine. There was no internal bleeding, and no serious brain trauma, and somehow she’d be just fine to walk when her leg healed up. Sabine and Tom cried tears of joy at the news and stayed by the young girls side. Tikki was also pleased with the news from her hidden spot where she lay utterly exhausted. She knew still that their would be a price to pay but at least Marinette was alive and well. The bakers daughter did not wake up until early the next day and when she did she was mobbed by her parents. She smiled at their concern and when the doctor came in to greet her he decided to check her memory.

“Standard procedure.” He said. “It’s not unusual for there to be some minor memory loss surrounding the incident itself were just going to check.”

And so the questions began. They started with things like her birthday, and her parents names and ages, then they moved on to recent events, so far no problems. Finally they asked about the day itself and the ‘incident’ in questions Marinette opened her mouth to answer then paused thoughtfully. She couldn’t remember. Not unusual assured the doctor, and then he returned to asking other questions probing gently to ensure everything was alright, and it seemed to be up until the doctor asked a simple question.

“What’s your best friends name? And can you describe them.”

Marinette froze and stayed silent. Tikki suddenly felt a strange twist in her tummy. Sabine and Tom looked at their daughter uncertainly. Finally after a long pause. Marinette spoke with a strained laugh.

“I uhh dont remember having one sir.” Sabine felt her stomach suddenly drop, hidden away behind a plant Tikki felt the same thing.

Concerned by the answer the doctor probed more with Tom and Sabine joining in. The answers were startling. Marinette Dupain-Cheng had forgotten every single person that was present when she fell down the stairs. She could recall other students at the school and her teacher, but all the students of her own class? She could not recall their names or their faces. When her parents asked about a specific memory the first time Nino and Marinette met and became friends. Marinette’s eyes lit up. She remembered the event, she remembered someone being bullied and helping them and then they became friends. Her parents were hopeful and the doctor calmly asked Marinette to tell them who the bully was and who the person being bullied was. At that all Marinette did was frown and hold her head. She could remember the incident but... The faces of the bully and the one being bullied were blacked out she had no idea who they were. They tried asking her if she knew the bullied boys favorite things, she had no idea, his name? Nothing. Favorite color? Nope. It was odd extremely so and the only theory the doctor could offer was trauma based memory lose triggered by stress and the possible incident surrounding her accident.

Later when her parents left and it was safe. Tikki emerged and was overjoyed to learn that Marinette remembered her and being ladybug. Tikki was a bit worried about the holes in her dear chosens memories but she knew that this was the price Marinette had payed. She got to keep her life and all her limbs and eyes but she had lost something precious, her friends, they were now black holes burned into faded memories. And it extended into her superhero life. Marinette knew Rena Rouge she could remember her powers and her skill, but when Tikki asked who she was Marinette could only frown and hold her head as it throbbed. Alya, Nino, everyone even Adrien were gone, Marinette had the memories but no faces, no names, no attachment she had lost her friends. Tikki felt guilty of course and told Marinette as much but the young girl just kissed her Kwami’s head and confidently said that they would figure it out.

It had been a week sense Marinette’s big fall. And the students of Bustier’s class sat restless in their seats. None of them had been able to check up on Marinette as her parents had forbidden visitors and the bakers themselves were illusive now a days as they kept close to the hospital keeping their daughter company. All anyone knew was that Marinette was alive, and while that was great news it wasn’t enough. And to make matters perhaps more odd then Marinette’s disappearance was the complete inactivity by Hawkmoth. It was as if he was busy dealing with something else. Like maybe his teenage son who had been expressing all of his teenage rebellion and angst in a concentrated dose ever sense a certain bakers daughter had fallen down the stairs. Adrien was indeed the most miserable about the whole situation, he’d given up on bathing, moped all day, snapped at Lila for even opening her mouth, and was refusing to care for himself or attend any and all photoshoots and extra curricular activities. Adrien’s rebellion was causing big problems for Gabriel’s business and he was stuck rushing about trying to re-organize events and juggle his son who had become terrifyingly good at escaping the house to go to school no matter what kind of locks were installed.

As the day wore on for Bustier’s students ignored the looks given to them by the other students in the school. More then a few of them blamed them squarely for what had happened to Marinette while others shot them looks of sympathy or concern. The class as a whole looked like they were from a bad zombie movie, but the one who looked perhaps the worse of them all was Lila Rossi, while some would try and argue its because of how bad she felt for poor Marinette others would recognize that she seemed paranoid and on edge with her eyes darting about and how quick she was to defend herself against even the smallest assumed accusation against her. Finally lunch rolled around and like the mob of zombies they were the students of Bustier’s class walked mindlessly to the cafeteria that is until one of them spotted a familiar looking girl though her hair was no longer in pigtails and her clothing had changed it was undoubtedly her! The class rushed forward with a surge catching the attention of the whole school who watched the exchange curiously. Apologies were hurled out questions were yelled and poor Marinette looked overwhelmed silence only came when Sabine stepped forward with a warning look though there was an odd glint of pity and sadness in her eyes. Finally it was Alya who broke the silence.

“Marinette! We are SO sorry, please can you find it in your heart to forgive us?” The Ladybloger was holding back tears and no one had heard her voice that shaky before. After a long pause Marinette spoke.

“U-Umm... Hey listen I dont... Really know what your apologizing for... And uh I dont really know who you are but... Umm sure of course I forgive you! You seem very nice?”

The crowd was stunned. Marinette had no idea who ALYA was? Her best friend? The girl she’d fought with last? Sensing the tension in the room Tom gently guided Marinette away shooting Sabine an odd look. Both parents had hoped that seeing her old school would jolt Marinette’s memory but it seemed that even her best friends face wasn’t enough to bring back what had been lost. As Tom helped Marinette climb the stairs with her cast. Sabine took a deep breath and proceeded to explain what she could. That Marinette had lost... Some memories, specifically relating to people who had been around during her accident... She didn’t remember any of them and no one not even the doctors or Tikki herself could change that. As Sabine apologized for what must surely be a shock she excused herself to follow her daughter and husband to the principles office so they could discuss the situation.

For the students of the akuma class life felt like it had been turned sideways. Lila who had been consumed by guilt had begun to hyperventilate. Alya felt slapped and raw her best friend had no idea who she was and the last thing she had done before Marinette forgot all about her was denounce their friendship. For Kim and Nino their were tears and disbelief the girl that they had known sense childhood had no idea who they were and regarded them like any stranger on the side of the road. For Chloe there was the oddest feeling of heartbreak, now she would never know if Marinette could truly forgive her, because the Marinette to whom she’d been so cruel was all but gone. But it was perhaps Adrien who was hit the hardest, Adrien who had learned that Marinette liked him the day of the accident, Adrien who had watched her fall, who had not rushed to check on her, Adrien who had felt torn by guilt confused about his feelings, Adrien who felt like the world had lost the sun with Marinette gone, Adrien who had wanted Marinette to come back so he could see she was okay and ask her on the date she deserved, and now Adrien who meant nothing to her because she had no idea who he was.

As for the rest of the students of Dupont? Well many of them were overjoyed to know Marinette remembered them at least but they felt pity for the akuma class but many others wondered what the future held. Would Marinette’s old friends try and rekindle their friendships? Would they bring photos and music and videos to try and bring back the girls memories? Or would new friends take the place of the old and forgotten? Would Adrien continue down his path of rebellion fighting for a place in Marinette’s heart once more, or would he return to being a docile lamb under his fathers thumb his heart and mind numb due to the shock of it all. Would Lila Rossi return to her old ways? Would she crack under the feelings of guilt and shame? Or would she go mad and attack Marinette. How many people would forever flinch and rush to offer Marinette help whenever she so much as when near a flight of stairs? Would it be possible to anyone to reclaim Marinette’s lost memories or would new ones need to be made? No one knew. But they did know for certain that things would be different from now on.

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#my fic #lila salt #ml salt #ml salt prompt #lila salt prompt #ml prompt #alya salt #class salt #protective Adrien #adrinette #chloe sugar #Marinette deserves better

[doortotomorrow]

Mirrors and Cautionary Tales : John Murphy’s Journey to Redemption

When it comes to John Murphy, plenty of people have wondered why he spent a significant portion of his screen time interacting with the seasonal villains, and I think I’ve come up with a reason why this feels like such a steady trend in his overall story arc. It all comes down to how these villains represented Murphy’s internal struggles with himself as he grew and matured into the man we now know him as today. 

Let’s take this back to the very first season of The 100 where we first encounter Murphy as he touches down onto Earth and the kind of person he was back then. As beloved a character as he is now, I can’t mince words or sugarcoat things. He was the villain for the delinquents in the first season. So, what kind of villain was he?

He wanted power and authority by any means necessary - ( “Well, I think the princess is dead... but I know the king's about to die, so who's really gonna lead these people, huh? Me, that's who, and, yeah, maybe I'll have to kill your grounder-pounding little sister.” - We are Grounders I )

He was downright wrathful - ( his willingness to kill Jasper, holding someone over a fire, ganging up on Wells to remove his bracelet, almost killing Raven )

He was selfish and all about his own self preservation- ( making everyone else do the work around the delinquent camp while Bellamy is gone, wasting resources to blow a hole in the drop ship to make his getaway )

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With those things out of the way, let’s jot down all the villains Murphy interacted with.

Charles Pike

Ontari kom Azgeda

Paxton McCreary

Josephine Lightbourne 

Sheidheda

We’ll start with John Murphy’s origin point and his experience under his abusive Earth skills teacher, Charles Pike. While Murphy was largely absent from witnessing much of what Pike did to become Chancellor of Arkadia, he did see the end result of how that worked out for him. Desperate, in a jail cell, and then later on, stabbed to death in an act of revenge for the horrific things he did while in a position of power he practically stole. 

On the Grounder side, he had the unfortunate luck of being trapped in Polis with Ontari kom Azgeda. Initially, he went along with the whole false Commander thing, masquerading as her Fleimkepa and even gave her advice on how to maintain her power...but then he started becoming unnerved by her violent paranoia, ultimately getting traumatized by her when she viciously abused him.

Murphy’s front row seat to watching two people’s quests for power and authority left him with this valuable lesson : being power hungry will turn you in a paranoid, unhinged person with a list of enemies a mile long. You will never, ever have a moment’s peace. You will always be looking over your shoulder wondering if this is the day you get a knife in the back.

After the third season, Murphy’s desire for power and authority completely disappears. It’s not something he’s interested in anymore because he’s been shown that it’s simply not worth it. 

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Enter season five and its main villain : Paxton McCreary. What does McCreary like to do for fun? Start riots, blow things up, fire off big guns, and getting high off of combat. Oh, and he’s always, always emotionally detached and angry. His default setting is rage. It’s sounding kind of familiar, isn’t it? 

The fifth season is where Murphy’s at his most chaotic and destructive(both internally and externally). He’s blowing things up, playing with huge guns, causing riots, jumping into any battle he can for the adrenaline rush, pushing everyone away, breaking up with Emori until finally, it all comes crashing down on him. All of this chaotic behavior leads to him getting shot in the Rover, nearly losing his life in the process.

On the other side of the war, McCreary’s wrath caused untold levels of destruction. It was McCreary’s need for destruction that lead to Earth being completely fried, it was McCreary’s wrath that resulted in the loss of Monty and Harper, taking away two members of Murphy’s family from him. 

All of this unquantifiable destruction and death was a giant wake up call for Murphy. McCreary leaves him with this lesson: if you let rage and chaos possess you, you will end up losing everything. 

That’s why, when the sixth season rolls around, Murphy’s lust for battle was greatly diminished. 

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Speaking of the sixth season, it’s time to revisit Sanctum and get ourselves reacquainted with Josephine Lightbourne. 

When Murphy arrived in Sanctum, his heart was heavy, clearly in a state of mourning over those he lost when he woke up and realized Monty and Harper were gone. Not only that, but yet again, he had suffered another traumatic near death experience during Sanctum’s Red Sun event. His first day out of his long hibernation was hardly fun at all, experiencing nightmares about going to hell when he fell into a coma and waking up screaming over what he saw.

So, in a moment of vulnerability and wanting to avoid going to hell, Murphy became more and more tempted with the concept of the Prime’s method of immortality. The ultimate survivor’s move : not dying at all. It’s at this point where he met Josie and saw first hand what living forever does to a person. At first, he made a deal with her to get his hands on some empty mind drives(getting Emori in on the deal as well), but the longer he lingered in her company, the more immortality started losing its luster. When it was revealed Clarke was still alive, Murphy joined the others in helping to get Josie out of her head.

Immortality had turned Josie into a sociopathic monster, utterly incapable of respecting other people’s feelings and wishes, only focusing on her own wants and needs for the sake of preserving herself. This wasn’t who Murphy wanted/needed to be anymore, having fallen in love with Emori, and creating a family alongside her which Murphy valued too much to lose. After all, what was the point of living forever if he lost his family?

That’s why, when the mind drives come up again in the seventh season, they’re now a symbol of finite time in Murphy’s story. Just a few more hours with the woman he loved as humanity itself faced its final hours.

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With all of these cautionary tales Murphy’s seen play out throughout the seasons, avoiding all of those pitfalls the previous villains fell in, we’re introduced to his perfect foil : Sheidheda, the dark commander. 

Sheidheda was everything Murphy could have become if he never went on his journey of redemption, falling in love, and finding a family to fight for. Sheidheda craved power and desired nothing more than to see everyone kneeling at his feet. Through the Flame, he had lived forever, waiting for his moment of opportunity to arrive where he could rise again. If something got in his way, he’d burn it all down, creating chaos and bloodshed in his wake. He’s all of the previous villains combined into one package.

We were in desperate need of a hero...and we got one.

When Murphy and Sheidheda had their first confrontation, Murphy was deep into hero mode. He helped Emori calm down a rioting crowd, saved Sanctum from a nuclear meltdown, and rescued a group of frightened children. He kept on saying he was tired of playing the hero, but let’s be honest here, he wore the title well. Sheidheda was flawlessly utilized to showcase how far Murphy had come as a character, becoming a man we know his father would be proud of. 

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There you have it! My long, long winded way of breaking down why Murphy spent so much time interacting with the villains. It was their way of marking down each stage of Murphy’s overall arc. It was very much intentional. 

#The 100 #John Murphy #Richard Harmon #this wasn't meant to be this long #but I ran with it

[umbralstars]

Ok so thinking about it more I think I can express why I've never believed that Rufus is inherently a shitty ruler who's intentionally letting Faerghus fall into a dark age.

It stems largely from the fact Rufus was very likely regent before in 1168 when Lambert went to Sreng. That was a whole military campaign that had to have lasted at least a year or two, and the next time we hear of Lambert being back in Fhirdiad is 1174 when he marries Anselma. Even if Lambert wasn't gone for whole 6 years and only gone for around 3 years or so, which would be the reasonable minimum for a whole medieval-esque campaign, someone had to have been ruling Faerghus in the interim.

Who else would it be other than Rufus? Cornelia? Despite how much Lambert trusted her as an advisor/doctor I don't think that he would've had her be regent over Faerghus when his brother is literally right there. Also at the time she had barely been a court mage for around 3 years and not queen, so no way in hell she was ruling in Lambert's absence.

The point is is that Faerghus didn't go into decline while Lambert was away in Sreng. There's no mentions of rebellions or that Lambet had to go home early because of instability, just a successful military campaign that further cemented Faerghus as being a stable, growing, and prospering nation by quieting a countrythat and been a problem for years. It was stable enough that Arundel chose to take Anselma there when Adrestia was going up in flames and that would've been either while Rufus was regent or at the tail end of his regency period.

He was a good enough ruler to keep Faerghus stable while the king was away for multiple years, but then the same person is overseeing a Faerghus in active decline after the Tragedy. While yes the situation is indeed very different and far more dire, with how flagrantly Faerghus is just A Problem throughout White Clouds leads me to think something is up as to why Rufus can't get anything under control. The Knights of Seiros is being called in to deal with things happening in Faerghus despite with the Kingdom's culture they should have the best military in Fódlan (just think about it for a few seconds. That knight culture isn't just for storybooks). Also the very fact that rumors need to exist at all to explain why Rufus isn't ruling Faerghus the best screams it isn't just "Oh he's never been fit to be king and everyone knew that" like the specificalility of the rumors is telling us something.

I don't think Rufus is a bad ruler. Dimitri never says directly that he blames Rufus for the state Faerghus is in despite admitting they don't have a good relationship. One could argue he isn't one for directly speaking ill of family, but he doesn't even imply that Rufus is to blame other than acknowledging he needs to take the throne. It's even more suspicious with Dimitri saying this on Crimson Flower:

OCs aside, the only other Blaiddyd confirmed to exist is Rufus and it doesn't appear that he died on Crimson Flower (at least it's not confirmed like the other routes). Meaning if the rumors about Rufus are false, he'd be willing to give Faerghus back to his Uncle if things go south for him. If Rufus is truly and utterly incapable of ruling why in the Goddess' name would Dimitri be willing to risk dying? Or assuring Rhea that things will be fine even if he does? Now if he has cousins he's willing to pass the throne to that renders the point moot, but since they are not 100% confirmed to exist outside of rumors that assumption is not necessarily true. What if Rufus isn't a bad ruler and circumstances are what lead to his regency being a shitshow?

Rufus being depressed after the loss of his family, rampently giving into his vices and ignoring Faerghus' problems, Cornelia's whole existence, and the western lords largely in secret rebellion anyways. The possibility exists that Rufus was trying but couldn't stop Faerghus from declining and Dimitri knew that. Not enough that their relationship could be salvaged, but enough that Dimitri genuinely doesn't want him to come to harm or see him as the main reason Faerghus is fracturing.

I would even go so far to argue that Cornelia could've actively been hampering any attempts Rufus had at stabilizing things. She could've been manipulating him or the situations he needed to address is any number of ways. Hell if you want total speculation she could've used her position as court mage and doctor to actively make Rufus sick or unable to rule for whatever reason. She was damn sure close enough to kill him and frame it on Dimitri and does that in every route but Crimson Flower so that likely was a long game plan. Give Dimitri plenty motive by Rufus appearing to be a flippant ruler and stirring up rumors he was involved in the Tragedy. There's any number of reasons and I find it more fun to go for the tragic rather than just "Rufus bad."

#fire emblem three houses #fe3h #rufus blaiddyd #fe3h theory #i will examine him like a bug #i just like tragedy and rufus is set up like a greek one #it's just more fun that way #anyways this is probably not 100% coherent #and feel free to disagree and make him an utter rat bastard we can all share the minor character equally

[akumaalert]

Snippet of “Awake” - First Chapter of “Divergence”

Hey, all! Wanted to share a snippet of the first chapter (”Awake”) of “Divergence” - a fic that will offshoot from “Heavy Metal Lover.” Note that this is basically a whole spoiler for chapter 20 of “Heavy Metal Lover.” If you’re like me and see random stuff saying “Don’t click if you haven’t read...” and click anyway: Hi! Welcome, chaos lover. If you like this and want to know the context, please feel free to check out the full work on AO3.

“Divergence” should be posted within two weeks and will be open to requests for the reader (”Lucky”) to have different experiences than what she has in the original. This can mean the following:

- AUs

- Re-tellings of certain scenes of the original

- Reader-specific details included in old or new/original scenes (i.e., reader is plus sized, skinny, tall, short, etc.)

- Genderbending of any of the characters

Originally made this Tumblr to share snippets of the stories on...so happy that I could finally do that! If you want to skip writing that was in the story, you can start at “Though sleep pulled at your eyelids...”

Story contains mature elements, swearing, and explicit mention of sex. Please be forewarned.

Looking back, it would only be a wonder that it did not occur sooner.

As soon as you were alone in the bedroom, you took off your shoes and eyed the clothes Heisenberg had provided you from the factory...

...before turning to the tub.

Couldn't hurt to bathe. Love to be clean. 

That man is coming back up to this bedroom.

This is the point, self.

The logical side of your brain, for once, remained quiet. 

Though you had clearly lost all sense of sensibility, you at least moved the divider to completely block the tub from any but the most determined of views. 

The water had been scalding when you got in.

By the time you had bathed and decided that your foolishness had reached its limit, it was stark cold.

"This was stupid," you said. "Fucking stupid. What did I want? Him to join me? This is the universe saying 'Wake the fuck up.'"

Though your fingers were pruned, you dried yourself off and pulled a nightgown from the small cupboard beneath the sink.

Sheer as ever. Fuck's sake. The universe had truly saved you.

Until it hadn't.

Heisenberg rushed into the room like a rocket and you jumped as the door slammed close.

"...you here, Luck?"

"Yeah," you called out. "Um...don't come over here...gotta get dressed real quick."

"...k" called Heisenberg.

Wasting no time, you slid the gown over your body and made sure to fan out the edges as far as they would go. 

You needed no mirror to see your nipples proudly displayed through the fabric.

Mouthing a 'fuck' for good measure, you frowned.

"Heisenberg?"

"Yes?"

"Do you...do you mind looking away for a second?"

"From you?"

"Yes."

"...are...are you coming out naked?"

"No," you snapped.

An awkward silence greeted you.

"Heisenberg?"

"Huh?"

"You looking away?"

"Oh. Yeah. You're good now."

Peeking from behind the divider, you only saw Heisenberg's back. 

With more speed than you were familiar with, you bolted to the bed and ducked under the covers.

Once secure beneath the pillowy softness, you breathed a sigh of relief.

"Okay. It’s safe."

You did not miss how Heisenberg whirled around.

"Oh...fuck...that was fast."

"Yeah," you said absently.

"Trying to set a fucking record?"

"Something like that."

"Mmn. I...gotta get changed."

"Okay."

The two of you stared at the other.

"You trying to get a free show or you gonna cover those peepers?"

"...I figured you would go behind the divider."

"The divider is on your side of the bed."

"Oh," you said dumbly. "Oh. Yeah...wait."

Yanking the pillow from underneath your head, you smashed it onto your face above your mouth and pressed down.

Heisenberg chuckled. "Dramatic as hell."

"Doing what you asked of me."

"...didn't formally ask you to...did I?"

Swallowing found your throat on fire.

"Mmn."

"What was that?"

"Mmn," you repeated.

"Heh...don't go into public speaking, kid."

You frowned at the ceiling and the darkness of your eyes. 

Instead of speaking, Heisenberg decided to tell you he was done by climbing in the bed beside you. It struck you suddenly that lamps had been placed in the room instead of the candles that the castle was so beset with. But when you removed your pillow, you found yourself met by more muted darkness.

"Sure you okay with this?" asked Heisenberg. "I can fuck off and go into another room. I like to bitch like a drama king, but I don't need anything crazy set up for me."

"Bed is pretty big," you said carelessly. "S'okay. We've been closer."

The chuckle Heisenberg gave was absolutely filthy.

"We have...haven't we?"

The fucking lilt would be the death of you. What a relief it was to blink blindly and stupidly at the man in peace without judgment. 

"Hey - last time I'm reminding you...what's your one job?"

"Get you out in the morning," you replied.

"Because?"

"Ah...generators...production line...something about a reset..."

"That's my girl. Nighty night, Luck."

"Night, Heis."

A turn. A breath. A feeling that you would never be able to sleep with the man so close that you could feel his body heat radiating from him like a welcome sign. 

But you awoke.

You awoke often.

You awoke in the middle of the night from a dream you could barely recall and all the images of Alcina at the forefront of your mind. 

You awoke in Heisenberg's arms and sobbed into his chest as he clung you to him just as sweetly as any of your snowy imaginings. 

"Fuck you doing awake? No...shh...it's okay...shh...you're alright. I'm here. I've got you."

Though sleep pulled at your eyelids, you nudged your head up to feel the spikes of Heisenberg's scruff. You had to stay awake. Could not return to sleep and Alcina awaiting you with her long talons and even longer legs.

"Nightmare?"

You nodded into his neck. 

"Mmn. Have those myself...think you can go back to sleep? Don't think it's quite time for me to leave yet if you just wanna yak about it or something."

Swallowing, you exhaled. "Don't wanna go back to sleep."

With a grunt, Heisenberg sat up to leave you curled on the sheets.

"Just checking the time..."

When Heisenberg turned to pull something from the floor, you noticed that your eyes had somewhat adjusted to the dark. Enough so that you saw the loose movements of his arms and realized that he had gone to bed without a shirt. 

"Fuck...two in the morning..."

"I'm sorry," you said, tensing. But Heisenberg was mumbling and coming back to you with open arms. "Sorry I woke you..."

"S'alright," he said, yawning afterward. "Gotten less sleep and done more stupid things after than make sure the reset doesn't fuck up the factory..."

As he spoke, you could feel one of his hands rubbing up and down your arm a bit too roughly. An awkward and well intended move to comfort you.

"Still...I'm sorry...you need all the sleep you can manage to get. I don't know how much work the whole factory thing will be..."

"Honestly not much as long as I get back in time," he said, hand squeezing your arm for good measure before returning to that same rough rubbing motion. "Could probably even come back here afterwards...heh...that would spook that sixty-foot snake."

You laughed a sleepy laugh and settled further into his grasp.

"Mmn...like a fucking little bunny...cuddling into me and shit..."

"I can stop...pull away..."

Heisenberg's hand stopped rubbing you in favor of clutching you to him.

"Shh...you're talking nonsense. Need some sleep."

"Heis..."

"Shhh..."

"Heis, you can just tell me that you like it when we cuddle."

When he tsked and laid his chin on your head, you smiled. It felt so much like that day at the stronghold.

"Why would I say that? Not in the business of lying to people."

Lying...yes...because what we are doing now is causing you so much distress...

"Well," you said, smiling. "I'll say it then. I like it when we cuddle. Especially in bed. Feels more comfy than cuddling in front of the lycans."

A shiver - as though Heisenberg had been beset by the cold - ran through his body.

"Oof...y'okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." he said absently. "Uh...actually...we might wanna go to sleep after all..."

"Mmn?"

"Yeah...early morning..."

"You mind if I hold onto you for a while? This...this actually helps from the nightmare."

The only way you knew how to describe Heisenberg in that moment was jittery. His movements were fine on their own but were conducted with such awkward quickness as to be alarming.

When he did not answer you, you looked up at him through the dark.

"What's wrong?" you asked.

A beat of silence and then another.

"Nothing's wrong." Quick words to match his quick movement.

"Heisenberg..."

"It's Heis."

"...you...Heis...something isn't right. Just talk to me. In English, preferably."

What you could only assume was a curse in German fell from his lips.

"I...fuck's sake, buttercup...I don't know how to...if you...this was such a bad idea...so fucking STUPID."

"What?" You paused, gathering enough evidence from his huff. "Sleeping together?"

"Yes."

"It was your idea."

"I FUCKING KNOW THAT, OKAY?" he hissed. "Just...I thought...earlier...it made more sense...this made more sense..."

"Glad something did because I am completely and utterly confused," you admitted. 

"You're confused? You started flirting with me." Heisenberg grumbled something low and rough. "Fucking gave me ideas...false hope...so I thought...guh I'm such a fucking idiot..."

Hope began to fuel you too. Fuel you and feed into the most terrible of terrific ideas.

"Are you...whatever you're trying to say...I was flirting with you. That wasn't false. Honestly...I was in the bathtub just moments before you came in hoping you would join me."

"...you what now?"

You could not help but laugh. The fact that you could not see Heisenberg's expressive face only added to the hilarity as you imagined a hundred different emotions running through that scarred skin.

"I took a bath...a long one...hoping that you would come up here in the middle of it and offer to join me...figured one thing could lead into another and the bed was here anyway..."

The pauses in between Heisenberg's voice could only endear you to him. He seemed every bit lost for words. 

"You...are you talking about...what are you talking about?"

"Sleeping with you," you supplied with a shrug. "What are you talking about?"

"Sleeping...you...ah...I wasn't...I wasn't mistaken? Shit...I...I may or may not have a fucking stiffy over here...because the cuddling is...something you enjoy so much."

"Oh?" you purred. The chance of escaping in the delights of Heisenberg’s body made your body positively teem with anticipation. But you could not forget your own actions...the last time you had seen him in such a vulnerable state. Losing some confidence, you glanced at the darkness of the bed instead of his body. "Umm...I want to touch you...want to...would it be okay if I touched you?"

"Yeah...course. You've touched me before."

"No...I mean...is it...fuck...can I jack you off?"

For a long while, Heisenberg said nothing.

The next thing you heard was a rattling spit.

"OUCH GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKER!" he whispered.

"What's wrong?"

"Pinched myself."

"You...why are you pinching yourself?"

"Because I'm clearly fucking awake but clearly dreaming at the same time because yes, I would enjoy that very much. Please. And thank you."

"Are...are you sure?"

Heisenberg's hand came down heavy but without malice on your neck.

"OW!"

"Shit...I was trying to grab your hand."

Providing your hand to his, you hitched a breath when he splayed it against his chest. His heartbeat thudded against your palm. Wrenching your knees upward, you brushed against that heated length between his legs.

"I...um...we should probably talk about boundaries before I do this."

"Huh?"

"Is this...are you okay with me just jacking you off?"

"Just? This is a goddamn holiday. Marking it on the calendar. Nothing little about it."

"Dumbass. That's not what I'm saying," you said, scratching his chest somewhat affectionately to show him that you meant no harm. "Do you...are you wanting anything more? Because I'm on my period...I'm up for it...but it might get messy and I know that's the last mess I want a certain someone finding."

"We...we can do more? More like..." You heard him take in a shaky inhale. "Can we...is like full blown intercourse on the table?"

"Sure...long as you don't call it that again," you said, shaking your head.

Grumbling and tensing his shoulders, Heisenberg whined when you dropped your touch to round one of his nipples.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to call it?"

"Sex. Fucking. Making love," you added jokingly. "Um...ah...you know...I hadn't thought about it, but maybe you genuinely didn't know. German to English...or...ah...Romanian to English. Might not have those words."

"I like making love," he said with certainty in his voice. "Let's do that. Make love."

You had expected him to laugh at that suggestion if he acknowledged it at all. But there he was giddy and practically giggling over the most flowery option he was given. 

"Okay...are there any places that you don't like being touched?"

"Not that I know of," he admitted. "Are there...is there somewhere I shouldn't touch you?"

"Not necessarily...just...no going down on me this time. Sex is one thing-"

"Making love."

"-us um...us making love is fine, but I don't want to get eaten out while my period is going on. And don't show me your dick after or comment on the blood...just...get rid of it. Please. And...and nothing too crazy to start out with. I'm not a prude, but don't want to be choked or anything harsh like that. Just...vanilla for our first go. Then we can see where things take us."

"Roger that! Heard loud and clear," he said, leaning his face to kiss your forehead. For all the lack of a relationship, Heisenberg was making you feel far much more mushy and cared for than your ex ever had. You let your hand round his stomach slow and soft in response.

"Thank you. We...if you want to, I'll jack you off for a bit before you grab the condom."

"The...I don't have one of those."

That made you freeze. 

"Not even in this room? Your chambers? If you don't feel like getting up, I can grab them from wherever they are."

Heisenberg went uncharacteristically quiet.

"Heis?"

"None in this room," he said plainly.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable by asking...but...is that typical? You having sex without a condom?"

It worried you. Here you were all too willing to have him fuck you into the mattress while he could be having all sorts of unprotected sex with who knows who in the village. He was attractive - a lord. Anyone with a pair of eyes could easily fall in lust if not love with him. 

Anyone with ears too...fucking sexy ringmaster voice...

"Not typical, no."

"No? Has it just...been a while?"

"Never."

"Huh?"

"Never made love before."

That sent you sitting up in bed.

"WHAT?"

"What?"

"HEISEN..." you lowered your voice, realizing he was growing tense. "You've never...I don't believe you. Quit joking. Not the time."

"Not joking," he grumbled. "Why would I joke about that?"

"You're just..."

"I'm what?"

"You're you," you said as if it clarified anything at all. "You're a lord in a small town. You have a face of a model. Not...not trying to open old wounds, but you're absolutely gorgeous underneath all those layers..."

"Yeah," he snorted. "Fatass McGee will be strutting the runways any day now."

"Oh my god...you're serious." Lying back down, you brought your hand to the clothed length between his legs. He had grown noticeably more soft since the brush of your knee, but you could feel his cock twitch when you cupped him. "So...no one? Not even foreplay or...what about kissing?"

"...ahhh...nah...none of that either...you're probably the first person to see me naked since I was a little kid...well...maybe a few folks in Constantinople. Got sloshed one time and woke up naked tied to a lamppost. But...other than that...all you."

There seemed to be no end to the surprises that would fall from Heisenberg's mouth. You stared at him - or the inky shadow that was him - and ran teasing fingers up his shaft.

"I uhh...fuck...I'm pretty sure anyone who saw me then is dead by now though," he supplied.

"Heis...you're so fucking ridiculous." 

#heavy metal lover #divergence #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x you